


‘Promising’

by HowWeGotHere



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: A LOT of violence, Anxiety, Blood, Death, Flashbacks (but not yet), Gen, Gore, I swear this isn’t good but an okay read, I’m a Lauren redemption arc person, I’m bad at writing tags, Lauren as a DB citizen, Loneliness, No actual violence (I think) but blood, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, Pain, Pre-Strex Lauren, Set long before everything, Some of this will be in line with my other fic, Some spoilers? I’m not sure, Strexcorp is Evil, Strexcorp re-education, There is so so so much OC in this, Trauma, Um., Very very very violent, actually there are a bunch of spoilers, apart from the end, in chap2 and beyond, thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 24,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowWeGotHere/pseuds/HowWeGotHere
Summary: Ok.So. Anyway, I’m bad at tags, so please tell m if I need to add one. Um.. enjoy? Tell me if anything in here is rude. K. So, hope you like it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrexRep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrexRep/gifts).



> Ok.  
> So. Anyway, I’m bad at tags, so please tell m if I need to add one. Um.. enjoy? Tell me if anything in here is rude. K. So, hope you like it.

They marked her promising.  
That was a bad sign.   
But she didn’t know that yet.   
She was young, not sure how young, but too young to know that when they wrote ‘Promising’ in their notes, it meant that her world was going to crumble. 

She doesn’t remember the first time they made the group.   
She doesn’t remember who started it.  
She does remember, though, how most of them hadn’t trusted her.  
Her, the favourite.  
The sadistic, killing, ruthless favourite.  
The ‘Promising’ one.  
But that wasn’t who she was.  
That was what she was.  
There is a difference.

She also doesn’t remember the first time she was re-educated.  
She doesn’t remember the cold, stained, cement.  
She doesn’t remember the first time that she got her medicine.  
But she does know that she has been re-educated many times.  
Far too many times.  
But they have never broken her.  
Changed her.  
But it never stuck.  
The group stays far away, they learnt her tells.  
When she was ‘Promising’ and when she was Lauren.  
But they also know when it’s time to ease her back to reality.  
She’s a good actress.  
She’s a good liar.  
But she cares.

She doesn’t remember the day when her sister stole her car and disappeared.  
In fact, she doesn’t remember her sister at all.   
She doesn’t remember the time that she drank all the radioactive milk together.  
The time when she didn’t live in a facility.  
When they didn’t implant memories of a perfect childhood.  
Or at least what they thought was a perfect childhood.  
When she wasn’t trailed my rumours and coated with the word, ‘Promising’.  
But she does remember that this isn’t right.  
Most of the time.  
Until she doesn’t.

They call themselves the AWAKE group.   
It’s named after the five who escaped.  
They don’t remember exactly when.  
But they do know that it happened.  
Aleia, Will, Armisa, Kelly and Ettie.  
They stayed AWAKE.  
Ha ha.  
They also started it.  
Some of them were also ‘Promising’.  
Most were not.  
It’s a mutiny.  
Because it is much harder to destroy the children.  
Even though half the time they’re all drugged up.  
Even though this group had been betrayed by asleep people.  
‘asleep’ people.  
Even though their memories are patchy.

Sometimes Lauren snaps.  
She can’t take it.  
Her temper is fierce.  
People have swore they’ve seen fire when she is especially infuriated.  
But that isn’t right.  
Surely.  
She wakes up, and she feels happy.  
Which is never a good sign.  
Her ears are ringing.  
There is a shrill laughing.  
Which she knows is never a good sign.  
Never.  
It’s her own laugh.  
Her throat is dry.  
Her face is burning.  
Her hands, her hands are icy.  
And throbbing.  
She sits up.  
She was on the floor.  
It is sticky.  
With her congealed blood.  
With her friends congealed blood.  
The walls are orange.  
A bright orange.  
She feels dizzy.  
Her thoughts cloud.  
She is telling someone something.  
But she’s so tired.  
And it hurts.  
These thoughts hurt.  
But she’s felt worse.  
And, she pushes.  
“No.” She whispers.  
Whatever she was saying stops.  
“No. No. No. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.”  
She repeated it, wishing she had been normal or disappointing.  
Not ‘Promising’.  
She could smell smoke.  
They- they turned on a tap.  
It was cold.  
The water.  
She feels herself.  
Every second she feels fumes from the water.  
Her whispering ceases.  
Praises fall from her mouth like the air she’s breathing.  
The fumes are so, so cold.  
Her mind is so, so fuzzy.  
She accepts.  
She drowns.

Talia doesn’t appreciate having to run the planning alone.  
But Lauren is missing for two whole weeks.  
No one is ever gone that long.  
What have they done?  
Talia is the first to see her return.  
Her eyes clouded.  
Bruises.  
Her body, in all its trained stature, is now a tapestry of bruises.  
Her mouth is cut.  
Like the adults.  
Her stomach turns.  
She is smiling.  
She walks coldly.  
This is ‘Promising’.  
Not Lauren.  
Talia tell herself that as she backs away.  
As she attends the secret meeting and warms them against her.  
As Lauren kicks Oliver so many times that their back shatters.  
As Lauren reports Sadi for helping Jim in ‘Cultural Studies’ (Smiling God propaganda).  
As Lauren doesn’t drop the smile.  
No.  
It isn’t Lauren.  
It was never her fault.  
Never any of their faults.  
It was ‘Promising’.  
And Lauren will come back.  
She always does.

The children here are so unproductive.  
They need to work harder.  
They need to understand.  
Be perfect.  
They need to take all their medications.  
They need to let StrexCorp help them.  
They is nothing wrong with StrexCorp.  
She will have to help them see.  
They need her help.  
She is ‘Promising’.  
She is good.  
Like that other person.  
Like her first assignment.

Lucas had never seen an assignment being handed out before.   
This was a first.  
Lauren was long ‘asleep’.  
There were rumours that soon she would never wake up.  
Some (okay, only Talia) held on to hope.  
“She was ‘Promising’ for a reason.” She argued.  
“She can survive whatever they’ve done to her.  
But when she was sent off, still a child.  
Assignments never go to the children.  
Never.  
You can’t-  
You shouldn’t be able to send kids out to kill enemies  
But when she left, we all knew.  
Her eyes looked dead.  
As if she was no longer human.  
That was a possibility.  
But Lucas doubted that they made her a Strex Biomachine.  
She still limped.  
Flinched.  
Lauren was still there.  
Somewhere.  
Right?

Strex.  
It was perfect in every way.  
Of course.  
Why wouldn’t you think that?  
What would trigger you to think otherwise?  
Maybe...  
Killing People.  
Innoce- no.  
Traitors.  
Unproductive.  
Undeserving of love.  
She had done as instructed.  
Their new experiment, the tiny microcollar applauded her.  
But she had thought a strange thought.  
“I need to wake up.” She had whispered.  
But why would she do that?  
She was perfectly awake.  
Perfectly productive.  
Why would she question the goodness of the mighty?  
The mighty agents who helped her be more efficient.  
Made her more hap- it was happiness right?  
This feeling that was invading her everything.  
She just waNTED IT OU-  
Wait.  
No.  
She was happy.  
Finally as good as she should be.  
After all, she was ‘Promising’.  
Who would dare question the mightiest of them all?  
The Smiling God.  
She had heard whispers that it was a miracle that she survived it.  
That it shouldn’t have happened.  
That the decision was impulsive and stupid, but he had did it.  
And she, this tiny child, had survived it.  
Light.  
It filled her up.  
Overflowing, spilling out in waves of aggression and violence.  
Or, productivity.  
She came back.  
She whispered, involuntarily, “Prison.”   
Her smile dropped.  
And then.  
What?  
This was home.  
The Agents might give her something to help with these pesky ideas.   
Surely.  
But she saw a girl.  
Walking down the corridor.  
And a wave of memory, and no, don’t tell them.

He didn’t know how she had short-circuited the chip.  
But she had.  
Lucas knew because she had not let them touch her.  
When she stumbled out of the car.  
Looking defiant.  
Looking angry.  
Looking like...  
Lauren.  
But she had been drugged up.  
She was folding in on herself.  
And despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop the ugly grin that grew on her face.  
But the microchip that everyone saw.  
It was off.  
Dead, rather than Orange.  
But she wasn’t awake.  
But something, combined with her first assignment.  
It had snapped her up.  
Not out, of the bull that came with living here.  
But up.  
To a place where she could be more Lauren than ‘Promising’.   
And that was truly what they wanted.  
Which was nice, that they had a goal.  
But sad, because their dreams were confined within the maintenance of their imagined autonomy.

Talia forgot her name.  
In fact, she forgot everything.  
It had taken them twelve minutes to find her and take into a van.  
Drug her.  
And make her disappear.  
They have many, many identities.  
All docile.  
Compliant.  
Weak.  
And Talia was never ‘Promising’.  
She had a spark.  
But she also had ODD.  
And they didn’t want to work on disorders yet.  
It would be a waste of resources.  
She had been changed twice before.  
But they had never gotten rid of it.  
Not permanently anyway.  
But she was too dangerous.  
Too risky.  
She was a liability.  
They could afford, but didn’t want to have to redo all their work on Lauren.  
But memories are easy.  
Implants are easy.  
Personality is not.  
So when Talia went missing.  
Everyone knew.  
No one knew.  
Not even she knew.

It hurt.  
It hurt her.  
They hurt her.  
Her thoughts were incoherent.  
She held onto three things.  
She didn’t care what they made her say.  
What they made her do.  
She was in the cement room.  
Smoke trickled like a lake.  
I am Lauren Mallard.  
Someone loves me.  
I will find a way.  
That was her mantra.  
In hindsight, if she could remember this, she would say that it was a pretty pathetic mantra.  
But it was all she had.  
The light was blinding.  
But her vague words held strong.  
Blood.  
Blood all over the floor.  
A feeling she recognised, a déjà vu.   
The feeling of when they make you like something.  
When they condition you to crave something.  
It was the blood.  
She felt a turn in her stomach.  
Her fingertips grazed the bloody floor.  
Her whole body hurt.  
Where was all the blood coming from?  
The blood felt good on her thin, bony fingers.  
She loved it.  
She hated herself, unable to fight and hate the feeling.  
I am Lauren Mallard.  
Someone loves me.  
I will find a way.  
It echoed in the hole where she should have been.  
The pain, the drugs.  
The laughter.  
Her face.  
Torn smiles.  
Smoke.  
And Ice.  
The light.  
And she felt herself, the bit that could have survived, flicker.  
And in that moment of doubt.  
Of fear.  
Of despair.  
Of hatred.  
She felt the bit of her left fall into the void.  
Long buried by the screaming.  
The blood.  
She was... Good.  
She would be good.  
Get more blood.  
More drugs.  
Be happy.  
Work hard.  
Help.  
Help others.  
Be ‘Promising’.  
She would be good.

Lucas was dead.  
Long dead.  
A ghost.  
He wished he could leave.  
Or help.  
Some days, he screams “What do you want from me? Why am I here?” Into the cold sky.  
He is in stasis.  
He cannot warn or help the many children here.  
He cannot help the adults.  
Until he can.  
The one day that Lucas exists is the day after Lauren was set out.  
Instead of trying, he grabbed her.  
He had made his own body out of ideas this morning.  
Which would have seemed impossible for him last week, but now...  
Well, he did it.  
She doesn’t fight.  
She’s too tired.  
Too worn out.  
Externally she’s injured.  
Internally she’s shattered.  
He looks her in the eye.  
She shudders.  
He takes her outside.   
To a house.  
In a town.  
The house is empty.  
Two small ghost boys play downstairs.  
“Lauren.” He says.  
“Lauren.” He repeats.  
And then he enters her.  
Lauren is a masterpiece.  
Like a mosaic with secret codes.  
And he can feel it all.  
He looks at her.  
“One day you’re going to wake up. Talia knew.”  
He said, talking to her shattered mind.  
“I’ll help you. Even if I have to leave the afterlife.” He said.   
“You’ll never have to be ‘Promising’ again.”   
Then they were back in he station.  
In her room.

They were warned.  
So they put together the emergency protocol.  
Everyone brought out paperwork they had stolen.  
Writing utensils.  
They wrote.  
Whatever was important.  
Anything that would help?  
They wrote their worlds into torn, crumpled sheets of A4 paper.  
It was hidden.  
Then Lauren, eyes cold, came in at meeting and told them about AWAKE.  
Everyone was taken to immediate re-education.  
‘Promising’ had taken over, broken Lauren.  
They remembered.  
They woke up.  
Most of them didn’t survive much later than the station.  
Some did.  
Most of the remaining people fell ‘asleep’ again.  
Some stayed awake.

Later, she would look back on herself, Lauren Mallard.  
Much hated killer.  
Enemy.  
Boss.  
Executive.  
‘Promising child’.  
It only got worse after the station.  
But she woke up.  
A few small times along the way.  
But she woke up.  
For good.   
And she swears to never let anyone, anything take control over her like that.  
She doesn’t remember much.  
Certainly not Talia.  
Her first re-education.  
Her first assignment.  
Her family.  
Her true family.  
Her.  
Most of these things seemed and seem out of her grasp most of the time.   
Which they are.

Lauren is  
Defiant.  
Sometimes she relapses back.  
She hates herself.  
She hates who she was.  
She misses things she doesn’t fully understand.  
Lauren is   
Alive.  
Despite all the odds, she is still alive now.  
And even if she isn’t when you find this out,  
Her memory will be lived on by us.  
By those associated with those she killed.  
Lauren is  
Sad.  
Most of the time, now, Lauren is sad.  
She hates people.  
Life.   
She wishes she was dead a lot.  
Lauren is  
Lauren.  
Not.  
No.  
Nothing even near ‘Promising’.  
And most days, that’s all that matters to her.

“Never again. I will never let them make me ‘Promising’ ever again.”  
She said, hearing the screech of steel and snap of bone.  
“I will goo- no not good.  
I will be happy.”   
She said, tears running down her faintly scarred face.  
“I promise.  
I promise.”


	2. Lauren Before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, remember my vague words in my comment to you?
> 
> This is what I meant StrexRep.
> 
> I think... I might make this a thing.
> 
> I want to give Lauren a story.

She was four. Round and cheery, smart and innocent. These are all not great things to be in Desert Bluffs. Even back when it was just Desert Bluffs, not owned. Not brought. She had a sister. A family. She loved her radioactive milk and she loved her life.  
She loved her fire as well. The stuff that began as small sparks and grew to massive roaring flames. She was four and truly happy.

She was seven. She went to school. She avoided re-education. She made friends. She was good, no massive fires, no bad grades. She was one of the last in her year, but only because she knew that the tops were always so re-educated that by the next year, they couldn’t remember their own names. Seven seemed like a long time to live. They came to school, the small business, and they did markings on all the children. Her’s was ‘Promising’. She ignored it and the small business dissipated into a bad market and a few time warps. She was okay.

She was sixteen. Her sister had disappeared. That’s what they told her. It was true, but everyone thought that she had completed suicide. That she had gave up on a world that rejected her. Nat had never been well liked, and she had only been very slightly younger than Lauren. Her pattern of content and potential was shattered by this interruption. Then it was a Street Cleaning Day. She had been fine, her flames tearing through the Street Cleaners. But her parents were not. 

She was sixteen when time stopped. When she lived in a facility.

She was sixteen and she was dying. She couldn’t live like this forever. She was dying.

She was seventeen and she was happy. Perfect. Faithful.

She was seventeen and she was disgusted at what she had been.

She was seventeen when she stopped counting her age.

When the days just blurred like her vision. When she couldn’t care less about how old she was.

She was only seventeen when she killed her first for StrexCorp.  
Almost eighteen.  
She was too young, too fucking young when she had killed her first.

She sat in a chair, hugging her arms to her chest. She looked at the floor. Blood. The red was enticing and she wanted to touch it, to smear it. She shuddered, pressing her arms closer, because she knew in the back of her mind that she was going to be their’s again, she would capitulate to them and she was not going to spend her time aware covered in her own blood. 

They got the hammer and smashed her fingers, the pain unbearable. She was bleeding, her blood spilling like it was a tap, as if she didn’t need it, and she was happy, thrilled. 

She clenched her teeth at the memory, hating herself, hating everyone. Why was she still alive? How hadn’t they killed her yet?

She wanted to warn them. 

She needed to warn the town that they were going to invade. That StrexCorp was coming. That they needed to prepare.

If she failed at this, just this simple, simple task, then she, she should be dead.

A man, eyeless and grinning came in. He put the cup on the table. It had liquid in it. Acid. And whatever they thought would make her theirs. Whatever they thought would make her the monster she had become. They were going to leave her in here, alone on the metal chair in the empty room. With the cup. She would have to drink it. 

Then the cold began. It was subtle at first, but it crept up her spine, chilling her core, her soul. Putting out the flame that made her. She shivered. Soon the blood was frozen, and whole body was numb. The liquid hadn’t frozen. 

They opened the door and sent the office workers, their suits bloodstained, eye sockets wide and their smiles cut to grotesque angles to pick her unconscious body out of the room, because she refused to give up without a fight. They had wanted her to give in, because that always made the process easier. But they just injected it into her, the doctors cold and uncaring.

And in only a second, she lit the building on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone like it?
> 
> It’s sad, because there are less NV readers and writers on Ao3.
> 
> Anyway. More should come.


	3. The Drone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you are doing good. 
> 
> Anyone who reads this.
> 
> I also want to warn you that there is a lot of violence in this chapter.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Take care of yourself.

The smoke was thick.

Her hands shook.

The tiny makeshift hospital burned around her. She smiled as the flames tickled her. But never burnt.

She knew that soon she would be one of them, soon she would be hurting people, shattering lives.

So she had to do something. 

She had to do something.

Ash. Only ash around her. Something cold was pressing at her.  
“Lauren.” The voice said from behind her.  
Her mouth twitched into a smile and she felt the familiar wave of nothingness crash over her. It was always a warning for the happy. She was tired. She didn’t believe in the Smiling God. She was alive. She felt the pull. And there was no fighting that, when your own mind rebels against you, when you shatter inside. 

It was later.

She strode through the halls, bleeding from her cuts on her face. Her boss had punched her, hit her so hard that bones had cracked! And while she wasn’t certain it was the most productive thing he could have done, it was StrexCorp, and StrexCorp doesn’t make mistakes. She was whispering under her breath “Think deeply about meadows. Meadows are important.” Over and over, unable to control the repetition. Her smile was stretched, cut to unholy lengths, no, not unholy, quite the opposite. They were cut to the lengths wanted by the holy Smiling God! Her fingers were curled, as if trying to find power that should be. She was going to go make a clip about being productive! It was required for all current potential Vice President candidates to make one. Lauren had a great idea for hers. She had gone to a random home and she had tied the family up! It was such a fun, fun way to spend her time. Then she smashed the youngest child’s brain on the pavement, hitting them until they were pulp, and the screams of the parents made such good sound effects! The blood made her feel happy. She smeared more on her, wet and exhilarated. She even smeared some brain tissue on her yellow suit! Then she had killed the parents, by injecting one with the StrexFinish and watching him tear his wife apart. And then she put a pretty bullet through his head. 

She won the position.

She didn’t put in the video how one child just... disappeared, and how the mother had pleaded with her, her childhood best friend not to kill her family. 

She didn’t put in the video how the mother had died trying to get Lauren to wake up. How she sung until Lauren was singing as well, and then she was screaming, aware and she was screaming, Lauren, and she was crying out. For help, until they stabbed her with enough drugs to kill twelve horses.

She did put in the video a bit where she had shown no mercy in.  
“Laurie?” The woman, the mother, the friend, Hailey, had asked.  
“I go by Lauren now.” She, the boss, the woman, the failure, the drone had replied.

Was she the drone?

Was she always going to be the drone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you.
> 
> Lauren was done well.
> 
> She needs a good backstory.
> 
> (Not that others haven’t given her a much better background.)
> 
> I’ll try.


	4. They

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just realised that this will also have a lot of non-consented drug use.
> 
> So if that triggers you, then watch out. This may also have other triggering elements, but not now, not yet.
> 
> (Also, if you’re reading this, thank you. Also, take care.)

She had a job to do. She sat, watching the new recruit. She was rather resistant. There was also news that in a few weeks, she would be helping integrate the Desert Bluffs schools! What productive, productive work. She tapped her fingers against the desk. Or, more the table. They were pulling implants of something into her skin. And injecting her, she was screaming, the agony she felt was almost as bad as when they had locked her in a empty freezer with dead bodies until she too was on death’s door.

She was silent, because she knew not to scream. She knew that only made it worse.

But, hey, at least this was a productive way to spend her day!

They let her out, and she wasn’t exactly sure who they were, but she knew that they were good. And painful.

She stumbled through the halls, her hands ragged shreds of mutilated flesh, but they were healing. People were staring, some even reaching out for her hands, wanting the hot blood. She just kept walking. Then she was at her office. Tears spilled from her face. She shook. She found that her cup had more pills, more things for her to poison herself with, even though she couldn’t remember or feel that anymore. 

One blue. Four olive. Five yellow. One red.

She had never had a red one before. She took the others, but hesitated at the red one. 

The chip at the base of her skull zapped. She flinched. She shook.

She put in in her mouth slowly, and swallowed.

***  
The new recruit was docile now. And there was another! She smiled in delight, trying not to smear the blood dripping from her still-healing lips. The other one was from the next town over. Night Vale! They were next, after the smooth transition of Desert Bluffs. She looked at the file. “Lin Huan.” She mused, dragging her bloody finger over the margin. Her bones were reassembling. The other was Lauren’s own age, but neither of them knew that. “And Allara Turin.” She smiled. “You come already broken.” She said, running her finger down Allara’s face. “You just need some sunshine, and then some special medicine. But first, you need a chip.” Allara was asleep, or more, unconscious. She pushed the girl away, and she leaned over to Lin, whose eyes were cloudy. “Hi.” Lauren whispered. “Smile.”

Colan was not as good as Lin. But he did take to his training better. She had been told the school integration plans were postponed. So she watched over her new workers! Lin was smarter, more ruthless, more precise. Colan was a sadistic man who wanted to harm rather than study. But he was good at his job. Good enough to stay.

They tried a new thing on her. They wrapped her up in fake skin, covering her scars. It burned like the acid they put in her drinking water. But it only held out for a while before it needed replacement. She hated it.

She forgot her flame.

She smelt like smoke. She got in the vehicle. They were going into the main town of Desert Bluffs. She was going to teach some kids. This was going to be a good day. 

Her pills were in the cup next to her. 

Three blue. Seven olive. Twelve yellow. Two red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably not fit properly with canon, because I’m going to make it match up with Many, compiled, bad ideas.
> 
> The title is a word from the song Little Game, by Benny.
> 
> You’ll get it in a while.
> 
> Thank you guys, especially StrexRep


	5. Can’t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> So, same song that I got the lyric off.
> 
> TWs:
> 
> Violence.  
> Graphic description of gore.  
> Graphic descriptions of torture.  
> Non-consensual drug use.  
> Self hatred.  
> Suicidal thoughts.  
> Burns.
> 
> Tell me if there are more that need to be added.
> 
> Take care of yourself.  
> Stay safe.

Seleine was not killed. She was just... repurposed. Lauren had to repeat that over and over to the children. They were just do thick! Seleine was limiting their productivity anyway. Lauren’s hair has blood in it. She had had to put on a clean suit. It was sad, being away from so many lovely things that she had out on her other suits, like organs, and flesh chunks, and so, so, so much blood. Seleine was now decorating the science lab. She was doing much better at that than what she had been doing before, and now she was reaching her full productive potential! Lauren was bleeding. So much blood was dripping all over the children. Every little drip made people cry, or try to leave, or try to do a bunch of other unproductive stuff. Thankfully, the eyeless StrexDrones held them down and took notes on which children had reacted in ways that would need... further re-education. She opened up a book, trying not to shake. Or cry. She knew better. She really knew better. 

“Now, we are going to learn about something very, very important. We are going to be reading a book about The Smiling God!” 

Her smile was wider than usual. A few of the children looked angry, rather than afraid. She ignored them, because they soon would be just as happy. Just as terrified. 

She read. But if you asked afterwards if she remembered what she read, she wouldn’t know. Because despite her mouth following instructions, her mind was elsewhere. When she was done, she blinked, already back to the sickness that now made her. Her momentary reprieve was interesting. Interesting in the way she remembered that Allara- no not Allara. She didn’t know much, hell, she could be dead, but she was absolutely sure that the new recruits name was not Allara. Certain.

In the break room, the weather was being announced. 

It was pouring. She hated it. She wished it was sunny. Wished the sun was there, to distract her from the light of the Smiling God that was killing her slowly and the darkness that was the void where memories should be. She ignored the weather. It was all fine.

They put her in the dark. In a freezer. The walls were bright white. The lights were bright white. It was punishment, for something. Not exactly something she remembered. There was a cup. It had three red pills, and two yellow pills. She wasn’t going to take them. She was going to die in here, because even if she never, ever reached her productive potential, she would rather be dead. She would rather be a rotted corpse in here, than do what she was doing. 

The great thing was that she would always be Lauren when they froze her.

The bad thing was, she was still in a freezer. 

She always relished the feeling of her head clearing. Always. She was crying, shaking, her body curled up. She knew it had been at least a few hours. She knew that all she had to do was swallow the pills, the ones that would make her a sociopath. Their sociopath. Her face was cut, but at least it felt better. Where pain was, there was only numbness. In her head as well. She was empty inside. Where pain, and grief, and fury used to live, there was nothing. Because she didn’t have anything left to feel.

She was trying hard to not fall asleep, because this felt like heaven to her. And after... well- she wasn’t religious- or she was- or, she wasn’t, not truly at least, but if there was a Hell, she was going there. She knew that the number of people she had killed was high. Really really high. She hated this. She hated her life. She hated what she was, because, if you believed that you were what you were for a majority of time, then she was a monster. A tool. A crazed killer with nice- no, not even nice, blood-drenched clothes. She hated herself.

So why wouldn’t she just lie down and die, like her mind insisted was a good idea?

Why?

*** 

They put someone else in there with her. Did they want her to resort to cannibalism? Because she was going to be saved, they weren’t going to waste so much on her only to kill her like this. She felt a injection of something that came from her chip. She felt the exact reaction, and even though she was sure that her blood couldn’t be any colder, it chilled. 

It was StrexFinish.

So they did want her to kill the other woman. She felt her fingers twitch. Her body stirred, about to go into a bloodlust. She clenched her fists. She couldn’t tell who the other one was, her face was bruised, bruised so badly, but she flinched back, recognising Lauren. Lauren could smell the woman’s flesh. It smelt delicious. She took a sharp inhale. She was going to go out without killing this girl. She could fight StrexFinish. Hell, she had fought worse things. Much worse drugs. She gestured for her to come over.

The girl hesitated, but she didn’t want to die either. And the woman, the girl, the person, who deserved a better death than a freezer, or StrexFinish. 

She didn’t deserve to die.

Something glowed. The girl widened her eyes, but Lauren was dying. She closed her eyes slowly, because she tried, tried so, so hard. Then a body was pressed against hers. It was so warm. She pressed back. She put her hands on the girl later, oblivious to the burns she was inflicting. In fact, both of them were.

***

Somewhere else...

“I told you it was a bad idea to put them into the same centre!” The man with the clean suit hissed.  
“They’re fine.” The woman with the stained jeans said.  
“Remember what happened last time those two were together? You really want to risk this major investment for... what? A experiment?” The man added, more exasperated than angry.  
“They’re fine.” The woman said, her voice a warning.  
A threat.  
“Fine. But not my fault when this all goes to hell. We’re going to get fired.” He said, mumbling slightly.  
“We’re going to win this. Just like everything else.” The woman said.  
“Make sure that they don’t remember each other. That would be a disaster.” The man urged one more time before starting to walk away.  
“I’m still here, we’re still here, aren’t we?” She said, before walking away herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> Also, this is going to get interesting.
> 
> But, that might take a while.
> 
> Thank you guys.
> 
> Note: Also, I wrote the next few chapters. And then the writing thing I use crashed. And now I lost a long, long time of progress. Argh. So, expect some delays.


	6. Hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is as bad as some others, violence wise.  
> Also, as I mentioned, I lost a bunch of work, so I might be a bit slower than usual. Release schedule? Nope. Not anytime soon.
> 
> Possible TWs for this chapter:  
> Suicidal thoughts*  
> Drug-taking**  
> Bones breaking.  
> Bugs (centipedes specifically).  
> Bugs all over people, being trapped with a lot of centipedes.  
> Slight sadism.
> 
> Take care of yourself, and watch out for what might hurt you.
> 
> * This stuff, or the things involving this topic specifically are in ———— above and below. The ways that this is portrayed may not mirror your experience with suicidal thoughts, and I, by no means mean to romanticise it. 
> 
> ** I would have said non-consensual, but technically, she takes them, but there is the threat of death and torture over her head. It’s complicated, and if anyone figures out how to list this properly, please tell me.
> 
> Thank you guys. Remember, you don’t have to read this.

Someone took her out of the room. She didn’t know that until she woke up in a warm dark room. She was alive. Somehow. Her body was defrosting. Her limbs were cracking and regrowing. Her eyes were stinging. She was shaking. She had to do something.

But she felt something on her cut feet. A cup. Another cup. And in that moment, after she had felt the cool plastic of the cup, she felt something inside her crumble. She then felt something else crumble. It was something in her back. Something was breaking, snapping under the pressure of her repairing body. 

When she fell, she didn’t feel much. 

Inside or outside. She just felt the void of feeling, the empty that made her. 

She loved the empty. The knowledge of what was wrong.

—————  
She hated her life. Her body. Her thoughts. Her weak, fallible memory, that had made her like this. She hated herself. The self that couldn’t fight against something so familiar, so repetitive. The self that gave in. She wished it was gone. That she wasn’t anymore. Just wasn’t.  
—————

If you believed that you were the person you were for most of the time, then she was the ruthless StrexAgent. Or Drone, depending on how you wanted to sugar-coat it. The outcome was still the same though, wasn’t it? She was still under their control, and the more wriggle-room they let her believe they had, the further under their control she would be. She was screwed. Absolutely screwed.

————  
Her breath was ragged. She didn’t feel. But- she didn’t want to die. Or, she did, she did so much, but her useless mind was telling her that there was hope. That she had a purpose. That she needed to stay alive, alive despite all that would mean. Despite all that would take.  
————

She picked up the cup. It had so, so so many pills in it. She examined them, her eyes, her poor eyes straining but making out the colours.   
Four red.  
Eight yellow.  
Two olives.  
Six white.  
One grey.  
She knew that she would die if she didn’t take them. Or she would die and then get brought back. So she downed them all.

Nothing. Her back was healing slowly, the sound of bone making her wince. But she didn’t feel anything.

Maybe, she had finally adapted enough to the pills. They had been pushing her dosage up. The white ones were meant to help her nerves. The bot who had been at the phone had told her so, or she had told someone else that.   
The grey ones were meant to break her will, but they had taken her off those after a while, putting her only on the olive and yellow for mood. Well, as far as she could tell. She didn’t trust herself, her judgement or her ideas. 

The light of the Smiling God did not help her. Or stop her. It burned, though. She thought this when it was on her. It was blinding. It did not light up the room, only her. Her mind. There was something coming towards her. Or somethings. A tiny door had been opened, and things were crawling towards her. 

Centipedes. This fucking door and her least favorite animal. They were on her, on her wounds. The room spun. The light was empty. She was empty. It had already invaded her. It couldn’t go any further. There was nothing it hadn’t exploited. They were all over her now though. All- all over her wounded body. She wanted them off. Now. But they stayed, and she couldn’t escape. She was trapped.

The woman put on new jeans. They were stained, but a slightly different shade. She watched Lauren suffer. She smiled. She put the phone back to her ear, ignoring the yelling man on the other end of the line. 

“Told you so.” She said in a sing-song voice, hanging up.   
“Those two will do just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably start writing chapter summaries in case people don’t want to read the actual work.
> 
> Next time.
> 
> Feel free to be angry in the comments!   
> Or happy. Or... other assorted feelings. You get the idea.
> 
> Thank you.


	7. Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, trying to make up for all the other ones.
> 
> This is very, very violent and quite graphic-ish.
> 
> TWs:  
> Violence.  
> Gore.  
> Misidentification.  
> The feeling of nothing to lose.*
> 
> * Again, any better terms would be appreciated.
> 
> Also, I know I said I would write up a description, but, I can’t right now. Anyway, so, take care of yourself, as always.
> 
> Also, this chapter is only Allara’s perspective.
> 
> If that absolves any confusion.

Allara had nice eyes. They said that, and she could never remember who they were. But she knew one thing for sure. She definitely wasn’t Allara. Something had happened along the line and now, now she was living as Allara. She knew that it has been a while. It had been a while. She missed her eyes. They had taken them, burned them out. Or- no- not them specifically. The woman. Lauren. Ms Mallard, who had never been married. So technically Miss Mallard, but last time she had said that, they had cut off the tip of her tongue and then taped up her mouth, leaving her to gag on her blood before having to swallow it. Her tongue had grown back, by some drug, something they had given her. She sat up. It was a chair, a sponge chair. They were making her sit there. She couldn’t figure out why. The other girl- the other woman- the other person, the other someone- or something sat next to her, her eyes glassy, but scowl there. The scowl reminded her of a ray of sunshine. Or not sunshine, moonlight. She looked around, pressing against the various stained restraints. The room smelt of smoke. Of burnt flesh and blood. Or an evil. But she couldn’t find it in herself to believe that that evil was Lauren. The Lauren who had curled up, dark red hair limp in the cold, her eyes soft, and fighting. She was Lauren. Not the woman who had burned out her eyes with that unholy smile and very bloody clothing. That- wasn’t her. StrexCorp could make someone else who used her body, but that wasn’t Lauren. She felt a pull, the same pull that had given her knowledge of her misidentify, but she was smart enough not to try to pull back. Last time, just for the useless, confusing knowledge that she wasn’t Allara, she had fallen and cut her head. Which wasn’t a problem, but the punishment for that was she hated. They had taken out all her teeth and then put them back in. Nothing was ever purposely numbed her apart from brains for violence. For killing and how horrid this was. Allara, or whoever she was, wasn’t in la-la land. She would fall. But she was go down fighting. Because, all she had was a false identity, warped memory and a tortured body. She had nothing to lose. Had she ever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	8. Anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the chapter index. Then you might see what I did. Or maybe you already picked it up. Idk. Anyway, the lines later in the chapter in ‘’ are quotes from Little Game by Benny. Same with the title.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood.   
> Use of bots.
> 
> Remember to take care of yourself.  
> Thank you guys.

She sat, the centipedes being plucked off her body by bio-bots that were slightly rough on her back. Nothing. She didn’t feel it. Maybe they had finally done permanent damage. Maybe she would be numb until she died. That- that didn’t sound too bad. It sounded alright, compared to everything else. She punched her elbows into the (dry, thank, well, not the Smiling God, but at least someone, for that) table. People were screaming in the room next door. She didn’t react. Did they expect her to try to fight them? Did they think that she was stupid? No one could rescue her, and in her state she was in no position to rescue herself. She shook. The bots dug their needles slightly deeper, twisting the serrated edges around in her flesh. She felt it, but because of all they had already done, she was used to that. That felt almost small scale.

Two people came into the room. The man was fidgety and tense. He was wearing a suit that looked almost like it was made of metal, it was so uncreased. He watched her up and down, eyes narrow. He reached out. She leaned forward, putting blood in the edge of his sleeve. He gasped and retracted his arm almost robotically. But he seemed human enough. The woman was wearing an old T-shirt, and stained jeans. Her hair was messy. She was relaxed, and she smiled. It was false, false as Lauren’s nails, but she smiled. The woman pulled out another chair. The man gestured for the bots to leave, which they did. Then the woman leaned against the wall as the man sat down. “We will watch the full effects of the Smiling God soon.” The woman said, as if there was a wall in between the two parties. The man grinned. 

Lin looked at Allara. She knew that one of them was going to have to die. How they were going to do that.. was another story. Then she felt a rough hand. It was pulling. Pulling her towards another room. Then they dropped her. Thank the bloodstone circles for that one. She heard the click of a door lock behind her. She turned. There was a device, a tablet. 

CREATE FORMULA 59. OBJECTIVE: PARALYSIS. 

She gulped. And then she began to work, because the pills they had given her started to do their own job.

Allara clenched her fists. She was still trapped. She cut herself on the edge of a knife that had been jabbed into the chair awkwardly. Blood dripped. She watched, involuntarily mesmerised by the drip. Then she noticed her blood was a whole nother shade. It used to be crimson. Now it was almost pink.

Lauren ignored them. She had a realisation of her own.  
‘They can’t hurt me anymore. There’s nothing left to break of me. There’s nothing left to take or me.’  
Then she voiced it.  
‘You two can’t hurt me anymore. You have taken everything and broken everything else.” Her voice was a rasp, but she still sounded formidable.

She sounded like Lauren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. That’s an end to a five chapter thing.  
> Great.  
> Thanks.


	9. So they could both be smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for this chapter:  
> Violence.  
> Taking drugs*  
> Addiction.
> 
> *Again, she technically takes the pills, but there is the threat of torture and death over her head. So.. I’m not sure where this would go.
> 
> Take care of yourself.

They had a word for her memory. It wasn’t a show of mercy. It was another form of torture. She could remember it all, and she couldn’t do anything about it. She felt like she was melting. They were not impressed by her outburst, but she wasn’t a robot. Something metal was melting in her fingers. Flames lit. She felt the pull. The pull was the precursor. The pull was the warning. 

The woman turned and looked at the red pills, the ones that were in a jar. They would heal her injuries, sure. They would heal the unapproved imperfections in her programming. And soon the other girl, Lin, would have made other things, stronger things. She pulled the man out of the room. His hands were soft, the type of soft you need for negotiation with people who would not like to touch the calloused hands that ran the operation. Her hands were rough and hard and thick with tiny, trained muscles. She pulled him out of the room. Locked the door. “What are you doing now Isobel?” He asked. “This is her last chance. Besides, the air is toxic in there.” She sat down and looked through the window. He joined her, slightly begrudgingly.

She heard the call of the jar. Like a siren song. She was dehydrated, starved, and she needed sleep. But all she could think about was the jar, and the siren song emanating from it. She wanted the sound to stop. To be able to focus on anything else. She stood up. Her body moaned in protest, but she was sure that she only needed one and then she would stop. She limped over to the jar. It was open. It stank of chemicals. The room stank of blood. She put her hand in there, and pulled one out. Swallowed it, the large capsule sliding down her throat. There was temporary relief. Then it was worse, her head pounding, muscles twitching. She just needed one more. One more and then she would be okay.

“She’s finishing off the jar.” The man said, marvelled. “Told you.”   
“Okay Isobel. You win.”  
She smiled, her face almost flawless despite the massive and multiple scars on her body.  
“And, in case you ever want to start a revolution, their keyword is Onism. I don’t know why, it was just the first word Polly thought of when she wrote the program.” Her voice was mocking. Isobel had always been the leader of the operation. The leader of StrexCorp, or at least this bit. She was definitely the ruler, the leader of this branch. Reymund knew that. He brushed his grey hair backwards, making him come off as much older than he actually was, but he thought it made him look more professional. (It didn’t.)   
She ushered him out, her expression still mocking, her ego smaller than his, but her power far more brutal.  
He took one last look at the woman in the room. “Pathetic.” He muttered to himself on the way out.   
“I wouldn’t be too sure ‘mund.” Isobel muttered, but this time, only she heard it.

Every blink let more things come into focus for Lauren. She was happy. She had a nice job. A nice life. She worshipped a Smiling God. She worked for StrexCorp, and she was happy here. She was in the middle of the Desert Bluffs takeover. She was happy. Very happy. So happy, that she was smiling. Smiling with many, gleaming teeth. She had put some more of the lovely, thick and almost mouldy blood on her unusually clean clothes. She gripped the table. Her hair, auburn and hot floated slightly. Someone opened the door. She walked towards her office. There sat the new recruit. Her tablet said she was there for punishment. Well then. Lauren gripped one of the many knives in her drawer. She pulled it towards the others lips. Allara, right, that was her name, was screaming. Lauren grabbed her face, and began to cut. So they could both be smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> If you can guess who Allara actually is, you get a goldstar.  
> (Or something.)


	10. Taking over a town for brainwashed StrexDrones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. This is a big one.
> 
> This also has a bit that very, very, very, violent. And towards babies. That is marked out with 
> 
> ———— 
> 
> Above and below.
> 
> We skip a bit through Lauren’s timeline, so we reach the start of The Desert Bluffs Takeover (yes that is in title form).  
> We get a bit of Kevin.   
> I personally found some of this chapter scarily violent, and some of it sad, which means it’s bad. (I don’t often find that there is any emotion in my work, and I’m trying to work on that, you lovely twelve people!)
> 
> TWs:  
> Mentions of drugs.  
> Mentions of torture   
> Memory tampering??  
> Gore.*  
> Blood*  
> Violence.*  
> Bones snapping.**  
> Sadism  
> Killing children or more specifically babies**  
> Very, very, very slight cannibalism***
> 
> * These are scattered around the fic in less aggressive forms, but they also are in my.... bad, horrible to read section, that is marked out with   
> ————   
> above and below. 
> 
> ** This stuff has been put in a highlighted section, that has  
> ————  
> above and below it. Remember, that bit is not necessary for you to read. I wanted to demonstrate..... how bad things got.  
> Take care of yourself guys.
> 
> *** If licking blood is cannibalism... then she fits the mark for that. But it’s not that much. That is also in the   
> ———— section.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.
> 
> Thank you.

Later.  
Not that much later.  
But later.

The days blurred.   
She was thin. Starving.  
They kept her cold.

Alone most of the time.

She smiled and smiled until it should have held no worth for her anymore, but she couldn’t see past what she had been told. 

She couldn’t remember much either.

They didn’t feed her food. Only pills. 

So, so many pills. 

She didn’t feel anything apart from blinding joy. 

To the point that when she was tortured, after she would hurt, hurt, so bad, but she wouldn’t know what for.

The yellow and olive pills were brutal.

But the red ones were worse. 

Not that she knew that. That was some out of what she could think. She could think a lot of things, they needed her brain in full capacity to have her run the whole branch, her job was important! But, she couldn’t see the logic. She couldn’t feel the wrong.

She had violent flashbacks, but that never made a difference. They just reinforced that StrexCorp had done a good thing for her. 

StrexCorp had been good to her, it was true!

If you think about it, they took her in after the death of her parents.   
They taught her well. Trained her well. So well that it hurt!  
They gave her good business experience.  
They had fed her.. well, sort of, but they had given her enough (illegal, extremely illegal) drugs to make up for it.   
They had given her a freezing cell to sleep in, covered in blood!  
And they had given her so, so much blood. She loved it, warm, congealed, frozen.   
She loved flesh in it.  
She loved organs and skin.  
They were happy when she was productive.   
Happy enough that they let her have so, so much.  
They let her live a good life.

My sister would be disappointed-

When Isobel read that thought, she shrugged it off, zapping Lauren enough to cause a lot of brain damage.   
For normal people. Lauren, Lauren would be just fine.  
Just fine.  
But it did make her bleed. Fall on the floor.   
She smirked at the footage, which was only sent to her because ‘mund knew she liked to see that stuff, so he had put a filter in that.   
She continued working with the more obscure particles that Lin had made.   
She had done it perfectly. But she was too stiff.   
Isobel put a new task on her tablet. A few, in fact.  
LIN HUAN: TRAINING ROOM WORKSHOP  
LIN HUAN: TRAINING: HARLAN RESWLL  
LIN HUAN: TRAINING: DEIDRE C’TALI  
LIN HUAN: FORMULA E31I

She smiled. This was going to be fun.

————  
Lauren smiled. She slit so many throats! Only some of the children, those who were marked as ‘Obsolete’. She walked around, her knife bloody and sharp. People were screaming. All they had to do was just give up! Just let the takeover be friendly! Apart from those who had to go, those would be so much easier if everyone would stop fighting.   
She walked into the child care centre. The carers had already been taken. Now she was just left to collect or terminate the children.   
She pulled up her tablet as other instructions loaded into her chip.   
She looked at a child. It was crying. Pitiful. She saw the red flash. All she had to do was slit the throat...  
She stabbed it over and over, blood splattering. The sheets were dyed red. Her red hair had splatters of blood. She walked away, barely resisting the smell of the child’s blood.   
The next she picked up, tenderly. In that moment of human contact, she was far away from her programming. Her feeling came back, just for a second. Then she put the child in the truck and the moment was over.  
She walked around, until there were only three children left. She smiled wider as she stabbed out an eye. Then she killed the child that was deemed more costly for StrexCorp that what was allowed.   
Then the next.  
The last, she got her hand and snapped the neck. The crack of bone made her shudder, but the blood...  
The blood was beautiful.  
She, with a shaking finger, licked a bit of the bright, beautiful blood.   
————

In the corner there was something moving. It caught her eye. She strode over.  
It was a boy. Young. Tear-stained face.   
She rested the tip of her tablet on top of his head. He tried to stay still, because maybe he thought she hadn’t seen him.   
No.  
She saw him.  
The reading was..  
PROMISING  
She grinned. With a predatory madness that her chip had produced with from the information given to it, she grabbed him.   
But on his hand was a burn.   
A scar. It read...  
It read...   
It read: RUN  
She stood, frozen, shocked.  
He ran. He ran. He- he got away.

She had strange thoughts  
He escaped.  
He was free.

Unlike her.

Kevin.

He was broadcasting furiously, as if that would help. His town would not fall. Cecil said so.  
He would not lose all of it.  
He would not lose any of it.

A crowd was on the horizon. People he knew. Smiling. 

He stifled sobs, because he knew, he knew that this was the end.  
He just didn’t want to accept it.  
He saw Vanessa. She was terrified. Something was happening.  
He kept yelling, kept screaming for them to fight, or run, or help-  
Or-  
Anything.  
Anything apart from that.

The monsters that had taken over his town.  
The monsters.  
He turned, hoping to see Vanessa.   
His proof that there was good in the world.   
She was gone. There was a smear of blood on the wall, and he was crying, and shit, shit, shit, what had they done?

What had he done?

People were slowly getting closer.

The screams were horrible. He held his neck, tears running down his face, and he wouldn’t wipe them away.

He- he had to stay to help. To help those still out there.  
To tell them how to be alive.

Vanessa was strong. And she was smart.   
She would be fine.

He rasped out more news. But there had been a lot of things, so so many things that had happened. His town was resilient. His people were resilient. His friends were resilient.

So, the idea didn’t actually pass through his mind. He was terrified, but when was he not?  
He really didn’t think that that would be the last time he ever saw his town.

He didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost near the end of... something.  
> Something. I’m not exactly sure what.. 
> 
> Anyway.  
> Thanks.


	11. They got them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> Second bit in my   
> “The Desert Bluffs Takeover”  
> Miniseries in this.
> 
> Anyone remember Colan from Many, compiled bad ideas?  
> The timeline will line up with the   
> Welcome to Desert Bluffs series by StrexRep (which is really, really good) sometimes  
> And sometimes with  
> Many, compiled bad ideas.
> 
> Some stuff today is from the WTDB series by   
> StrexRep, but not too explicitly.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Violence.  
> Consensual drug use  
> Non-consensual drug use. (This involves syringes, so, if that’s a trigger for you, just read the summary.)  
> Blood.  
> Murder (never realised I should have this one before, sorry guys)  
> Implied mass murder.  
> People tearing apart a corpse.  
> Stabbing someone with scissors   
> Being unable to save loved ones  
> Use of syringes.  
> This isn’t as bad as last chapter with the gore and violence though.
> 
> Take care of yourself.
> 
> (This is my first time doing a) Summary:  
> Vanessa and a Strex-controlled Daniel fight  
> Vanessa is kidnapped  
> Colan and Lin have a chat.  
> Lin sends in an important invention  
> Lauren drugs people  
> Lauren is horrible to Vanessa, (but you don’t hear any of that.)  
> Lauren kills Vanessa.  
> Kevin goes to barricade the door.  
> Kevin’s family is killed.
> 
> So, yep.  
> That sounds a lot worse written out like this.

Vanessa was a formidable opponent. She held the scissors hesitantly.   
Her pleas, her naive pleas rang in her ears.  
“Please stop, you’re scaring me!”  
Daniel may have been weird, and creepy at times, but this wasn’t normal creepy.  
It was StrexCorp’s fault. And now she was fighting with her friend.   
The robotic bits of him were crackling, flashing. His eyes were glassy.  
She wanted to shake him, make him realise what he was doing. Wipe the unfeeling look off his face.   
But that wasn’t how these things went.  
She tried to find something she could pull at on his face. A sign.   
Then she stopped, raising the scissors. They glowed from the sun.  
“Daniel.” She called.  
Then, she stabbed down.   
For a second, she thought she was safe.   
That she had killed him.  
He got back up, bleeding, and he started to pull her.  
She wasn’t expecting that.  
She wasn’t expecting this whole thing.  
She thought that they would survive.  
She had thought that ever since Kevin had talked to Cecil, passion igniting his voice.  
She had thought so ever since she had survived her first re-education.  
Since she had eaten frozen yogurt.  
Since she had made friends.  
Fallen in love.  
She didn’t think that when she had looked at Kevin doing his broadcast, it would be the last time for that.  
She didn’t think that this would be the last day of her life.

Colan was creepy, and blood soaked.   
Then again, who wasn’t around here?  
Well, her, she guessed. But she only had these thoughts when she was interrupted in her lab, by, you guessed it, Colan.  
She smiled even harder at him. He had smeared blood on her door frame, and she tried not to grimace in distaste. When Polly had done her training, she had given her an aversion to blood and gore, making her more likely to stay in her clean lab and be more productive!   
He did not have the same program essentials.   
Her mind was foggy, but her head was clear. She could do all the important things without having to think treasonous thoughts!  
But she didn’t mind working with newer recruits, following those instructions. It wasn’t as bad as what Colan did. He wasn't too kind to newer people.  
“Polly told me that you should submit the new device design into HQ today. The one that isn’t as expensive as the chips.”   
“I’m doing that now.” She typed in some last things into the usage description..  
“Aaaannnnndddd… sent!”  
He thrust a cup at her.   
She took it. It was almost full again.  
She closed her eyes and took about four out, and swallowed them.  
She did that until the cup was empty.   
“You don’t look?” Colan asked.   
“No. Why would I? They are put together by StrexCorp to help me be more productive and be closer to the Smiling God.”  
He smiled, and pulled out a tablet.  
“You passed the test. Unlike some other people.”  
“Like who?” She asked absentmindedly.  
“Allara.” He grumbled.   
She froze slightly at the name, her mind twisting and her memory flashing at her.   
Then she was fine.  
Thankfully for her, Colan wasn’t the most observant in the centre.  
He strode away. Her tablet flashed. There were new people to train.  
So many new people.

When Lauren snapped out of her stupor, she led the ever increasing crowd to the radio station. She jabbed anyone too resistant with the bright yellow syringes. One of the inventions of her employee….Lin. That was her name, right?   
She knew that soon the radio host, the radio host who was trying, but needed StrexCorp’s help to reach his full productive potential, would try to stop them from coming in.  
But first, she knew that Daniel would have brought Vanessa, the troublesome intern over to the side of the building. She stopped the crowd from advancing on the radio station because she wanted to see the hosts downfall… what was his name… Kevin’s downfall, but she knew she had to terminate Vanessa first.  
Daniel was fidgeting, which meant, just as planned, the serum they used to make him bring his friend over here was wearing off, but due to his cyborg parts, he would have to watch while she killed his friend.  
He was shaking, fuming, but he couldn’t save her.  
No one could.  
Vanessa was stuck, but she was recording a voicemail.   
Lauren began to talk to her, telling her what she thought about her productivity levels and how disgusting she was. She wasn’t sure what was actually her opinion and what was just the chip, but did it even matter? She was part of StrexCorp, and there was no escaping.  
For a second, some Lauren bled through.  
“Sorry.” She rasped.  
Then she killed her.  
There was a lot of blood.   
It was disgusting. Then she took the phone.  
The mob went in, grabbing chunks of Vanessa to decorate themselves further.  
Until there were only bones.

Reymund and Isobel were proud of their best Executive.  
They were winning. They were going to takeover Desert Bluffs.  
They were winning.

Kevin had to barricade the front.  
He had to barricade the front.   
Find Vanny.  
He wasn’t going to give up.  
He was going to go down fighting.  
And he did.  
But he couldn’t last forever.

Desert Bluffs was falling.  
Cecil lied.  
Vanessa was dead.  
Cecil lied.  
He..  
Had..  
To..  
Reach…  
The…  
Door…  
Cecil lied.

Light was leaking in. Jeanine noticed that. She looked up. It wasn’t the sun. It was cold.  
Dead inside, rather than nourishing.  
Then-  
They found her, her family.  
They didn’t have mercy on her parents.  
They were going to hurt her uncle.  
She couldn’t fight them.  
They found her.  
They got her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was that.  
> Poor DB citizens.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Was the summary any good?
> 
> Feel free to hate me/critique me/etc in the comments!


	12. A new era.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> Mini-bonus chapter, because I’m not going to be posting for a while after this.  
> (A while means a few days.)
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood  
> Kidnapping.  
> Bones
> 
> This is pretty good for Violence/Gore/Murder, especially compared to what else I’ve wrote.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.
> 
> Summary:  
> Kevin get confirmation that his family is dead  
> Kevin reaches the door, and we all know what happened there.  
> Lauren picks out the remaining resistance.  
> Lucas sees the light of the Smiling God.

While he was running his phone rang.   
He pulled it to his ear out of habit.   
It was his sister.  
And she was crying.   
Kevin’s heart broke at that.  
“Hey.” She said, her breath in shuddering rasps.  
“Hey.” He said, his breath also ragged.  
“We were hiding, because, you know Jeanie couldn’t fight.”   
He was nodding. He was almost there. He was glowing.  
“They found us. And I’m bleeding out. Stan and Jeanie are already…”  
She trailed off, her voice shattering into sobs at that.  
“And I just wanted to tell you I love you. I’m sorry.”  
Her breath was slowing. He could feel her power dissipating. He could feel his sister leave his orbit.  
“I love you too.” He said.   
Then he felt from across the town her heart stopping. Her tentacles going limp.  
Her life ending.  
In his grief, he crushed the phone.  
He ran outside, holding the doors.   
He saw a crowd of his townspeople, strangers with bloody hands and glazed eyes.  
A pile of bones over in the alley caught his eyes.  
Then the crowd descended on him.   
No, just those in the suits. The strangers. 

Lauren didn’t help them shatter Kevin’s body.  
She would do that later.  
For now, now she would help pick out the stragglers.  
If they hadn’t resisted, this could have been so much nicer.   
They wouldn’t have had to kill, and torture.  
Or, they still would, but they would have done it more nicely.  
With bigger smiles.  
With less.. unsavoury actions.  
She picked children out of their parents arms. Put people into trucks.  
When she got the signal she stepped into the station.  
“Hello Desert Bluffs! Welcome to a new era!”

Oh Lauren.  
Lucas knew he had failed.   
They had lost.  
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.  
But he was here for a reason…  
Then he saw the light, the light that poured from the sky.  
This is what whoever ruled the world wanted him to see.  
They wanted him to see the Smiling God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to break Kevin’s heart.
> 
> Think I’ve done it well?
> 
> Maybe?
> 
> :)
> 
> Thanks guys.
> 
> (Also, in case anyone wonders, I use “guys” as a gender-neutral pronoun. I’m not specifically referring to men when I saw guys.)


	13. Eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> I’m back!  
> But I may be posting less, cause...  
> Life.  
> I’m really happy that 14 of you have read this! 
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Broken bones   
> Sadism  
> Fire  
> Eyes being burned out*  
> Drug use  
> Surgery  
> Extreme violence**  
> Bad coping mechanisms***
> 
> Tell me if there are more.
> 
> * This is in a highlighted bit, which is marked out with  
> ———— above and below. I only wrote this bit because one of my hcs is that Kevin had his eyes burnt out. Originally they were going to be burnt out by Lauren (her fire specifically), but stuff changed.
> 
> **This is also in a highlighted bit, marked off (as always) with  
> ———— above and below. This bit involves fingers and toes being cut off. It is gory, and there is repeated mentions of screaming. Most of my writing is bad, violence wise, but this bit is pretty horrible.
> 
> *** This is in my opinion. Sometimes these coping mechanisms are necessary for sanity, but denial, avoidance and numbness are generally destructive, just from personal experience. These people are under a lot of pressure, and are doing it because they are the best options for that moment.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.
> 
> :)

She had forgotten the particular pain of walking with a broken pelvis. She remembered it after her boss broke it again. She wasn’t sure of what for. But she had a few assignments that she planned to do to the best of her ability. She had to finish the takeover, manage anyone who is resistant, and some other stuff. She couldn’t wait until she got to meet with the resistant. She wanted to pick their minds, to find out how they thought they could win, how resignation had not pushed them into apathy. She wanted to break them, make them hurt, believe in the Smiling God.  
It had been a slow, almost unproductive process, the integration of Desert Bluffs. But it was worth it.  
She went into the room, the training room, and sat lazily next to the injured, bleeding radio host.   
“Hello Keeevvvvv.” She said, stretching the word out, the shortening of his name that he hated so much said slowly, a tiny other torture.  
He sat there, too stunned from whatever Polly and Lin had done to him to react as he would like to. His jaw was clenched though. His fingers curled, just very slightly.  
“Still resistant.” She tutted. He narrowed his butchered eyes slightly.  
“Still unhappy.” She said, taking out the lighter, the tiny one.

————  
She brought it close to his eyes, and his breathing sped up.  
“So, right, left, or top? Which one first?” She asked, humming.   
“Please, don’t, please.” He barely managed to say. His voice was quiet and hoarse.   
“Left.” She said.  
The following screams were beautiful, but they gave her a bit of a headache.  
“Shhh.” She scolded as he continued screaming, burnt eye mush trickling down his face.  
“Okay, if you’re going to be that loud about, right goes next.”  
Again, she moved the lighter, now flickering.   
His face was covered in it now. Blood as well.  
She lifted the lighter up again.  
“Top one too!”  
He finally passed out and quieted down.  
She connected the white-pill/serum-drip, and she went back to her office.  
————

Reymund watched as Polly yet again installed the implants in Lauren’s fingers.  
“You’re sure these ones will work?” He asked, wringing his hands.  
She was silent, sealing skin with lasers, and putting more skin on the thin scarred skin.  
“Polly?” He asked.  
“Polly?!”  
She abruptly turned away from her work, and then she leaned into him, tiny drops of blood splattering on his suit. He grimaced.  
“Shut. Up. Rey.” She snarled.   
“Polly.” Isobel called from the doorway.   
“Sorry.” She sighed, but she wasn’t sorry for threatening him. She liked Isobel, but hated him.  
“Kevin’s eyes-”  
“They’ll be fine.”  
“Fine.” He said, walking away, fuming.

————  
Across the way, Allara was watching her fingers being cut off. Her screams echoed. This room had sound-proofing.   
She was screaming.  
Blood was splattering. It was everywhere.   
Her throat was hoarse as Colan began on her toes.  
Why, why, why.  
Her fingers were already growing back.  
She clenched her jaw.   
Tiny drops of darkness fell from the stubs where her fingers were regrowing.  
She couldn’t be heard, but she could hear others.  
Like Lin.  
Like that man- who-   
Kevin.  
She couldn’t stop screaming.  
Could anyone?  
————

“Ta-”  
Lauren hated half memories. She shook. Her hands shook, something horrible in them. 

Kevin curled in on himself. A bone had cracked in his face. And the white serum was making it so, so much worse. He would recover. And then they would shatter him again.  
“I’m fine.” He reassured himself.  
“I’m fine.”

Allara touched a sea of dark.  
She retreated into herself.

Lauren felt the numbness.  
She smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that okay?
> 
> Thanks.
> 
> As always, the comments are open.
> 
> This is... a work in progress (obviously).  
> But I mean more specifically, writing and trying not to obsess over everything.
> 
> Have a nice.... forever, you lovely fourteen people.


	14. Memory. Or, more specifically, the lack of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> You know, the usual.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> StrexCollars  
> Mentions of people questioning their sanity.  
> Torture.  
> Needles  
> Memory tampering   
> Tasering.
> 
> As always, let me know if there are more.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

Lin saw her StrexCollar invention everywhere. It was so successful that she had to wear one herself. The warm metal clamping slightly too tight around her windpipe, the tiny tasers and the tiny needles. It was a wonder she wasn’t dead!   
Her hands shook as she followed the instructions. The ones for the newest employees. The ones that would leave them a mess,a new then she would stitch them up and cover their skin, making them question their sanity. The should question their sanity.   
It would make it easier for them when they were no longer sane.   
The forbidden thought led to a zap, causing her to slam the needle into the rib of the thrashing person on the yellow table. The bloody, whimpering, person.  
She removed the needle, slid it masterfully into the appropriate place, and then she got to work on the person, the being. 

Later Lin would make other extensions to the collar. Make specific collars for different people. Different workers.   
Her head was clouded to the point that most days, she just did her job and then she would forget it was her job altogether, only remembering the carefully prepared butchering she did.  
And then wake up the next morning only to repeat.  
She couldn’t tell if it was Heaven or Hell.  
She couldn’t prove anything.

Kevin talked to creepy doctors. She also talked to those same creepy doctors, but those memories had been deemed ‘bad for her productivity’.   
He was shocked. They didn’t shock her anymore. It was frying her nerve endings. And they didn’t want to make her unable to feel pain. That would also be bad for her productivity.

There was a corpse in her office. Did Lauren know why? Of course not! Would asking result in massive pain and another potential death? Of course, where do you think she was working?!

She re-decorated. The blood was a bit thicker than she liked, but, it would do. Then she filled out paperwork, over and over, so many lines, so many empty questions.

There was a nurse who had a soft spot for Kevin. Not that it would matter in the end, but it was bordering on cute right now. Or on creepy. 

There were things in her fingers, and she could feel her acrylics, with a slight metal sheen blocking her access to the tips. She had faint memories of her ripping the skin off her fingertips, and taking out little strange things. But the nails, the nails. Her hands shook as she tried to keep them steady.

Kevin missed proper food.  
Radio.  
Life.

Lauren couldn’t remember any better.

Lin, Lin, Lin, tried and tried, but she never got too far out of the bounds of what her mind had been restricted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> Comments are open.
> 
> Things are going... Ok.
> 
> Thank you.


	15. Did it really matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> First time I’ve ever added a Weather!  
> So, this one... is.. ok.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood  
> Non-consensual drug use  
> Torture.  
> Conditioning.  
> StrexCollars  
> StrexElectricity/Electrocution  
> Memory issues  
> Mental overload  
> Apathy  
> Mentions of dead bodies
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

“Colan.”  
“Allara.”  
She stared him down. He looked at her dismissively. It infuriated her.  
“You haven’t abided by the programming.” He tutted, examining the stained clipboard with her name on it.  
“Fuck you.” She said, her throat still sore, her body still agonised, but she would not go quietly. But at this point, she was wondering if she would go down at all.  
“Smile.” He said. And despite that not holding the same depth as certain things did for other people, her mouth snapped up into a long, cruel smile.  
“Let’s do a test run, shall we?” His face hosted a cruel smirk.  
“Laugh.”  
Tiny snickers escaped her mouth, but then her lips twitched. The noises stopped. Her eyes were still slightly cloudy, but alert.  
“Impressive, but unproductive.” He said, that same cruel, cocky smirk looking at her restrained body.  
“Let me repeat: Fuck You.” She said, mustering up some of her remaining energy.  
“Say what you want.” He said. The same, dismissiveness. It was so annoying. Or more than that. It was that Colan being a representation of how this corporation that was her torturing felt as well. She knew it. She hated it.  
He was holding a vial. She could see it in her peripheral vision.  
“Wanna know what Lin made?” He asked, taunted, every word from his mouth was a taunt, teasing her.  
She only wondered how hard it had been to change the wild, thrashing person she had seen on her first day at this centre. What had been done.  
“Before, we only had serums to control androids and people with cyborg parts. Now, we can use this on anyone.”  
There was a different type of silence now. He waited for her to process that, that gleaming, disgusting gem of information.  
“All we have to do is inject and attach. Inject the serum, attach the collar.”  
Why couldn’t she disappear?  
He was preparing something. She could hear the clicking behind her.  
Darkness dripped from her fingers, but neither of them noticed that.  
There was a gel, boiling hot as it entered her body.  
There was a clink of metal, a tiny click of receptors.  
Colan was still talking, still setting up.  
“This stuff is expensive, so we can only use it on our most unproductive and most expensive investments.”  
There was a beeping. Like a countdown.  
“Fuck you.” She said, one more time, one more useless time.  
Then the world turned white.

Kevin hated Lauren. Then again, she still had given him a life, food, StrexPills, so many pills and serums.  
“Good morning Desert Bluffs!” He said, that lilt to his voice sounding so sinister now in the context of Strex.  
“Today is just another wonderful day under the careful, very productive eyes of StrexCorp, and the light of the Smiling God!” He kept to his lines. He knew what would happen to him if he didn’t keep to his lines. He knew what might happen to his town.  
“Remember to smile today Desert Bluffs! Remember that smiling is one of the many ways that we can add our value to the world other than hard work, more hard work and worship of the Smiling God!” Besides, even if he didn’t have to stick to his lines, what would he say? His head was… what did that nurse call it…. delightfully cloudy. Most of his thoughts ran in a loop, over and over, trying to keep the radio free of…. unproductive content.  
“Keep talking.” Lauren said into his headphones.  
“Umm, okay, so, today on our community calendar we have a WorkDay! All employees of StrexCorp should work, and work, and work. Tomorrow, on Thursday, we will have another WorkDay! All employees of StrexCorp should work harder, work until you are falling, dying from the pressure put on your body and mind, only to get back up again and keep working harder!”  
These words tasted like lime in his mouth. Bitter. Sour. He hated limes.  
“Friday to Sunday are all.. yay! These days are all WorkDays! Get your quota done, or face the bodies of your family!”  
Something smelt like smoke. He felt someone yelling at him, but more felt than heard. He was jolted from his train of thoughts with a cool, metallic voice saying into his headphones, “Training: room U74D: 647852/Kevin.”  
He checked the clock. He had stopped talking for thirty seconds.  
Shaken, he continued, “As a new law, Mondays no longer exist. If you hear or are heard talking about Mondays, you will be immediately sent to WorkDays re-education.”  
A zap. He didn’t know why. He felt it everywhere. Everything hurt. He missed the feeling of Vanessa in the booth. Of knowing that there was something to go home to.  
“Tuesday will be another fun StrexCorp adjustment day! There will be mandatory StrexCollar sales, refills and any other things you may need. Anyone not caught attending will be sent to an adjustment workshop, where you can work with our fun StrexReps and StrexTechs. The costs of these services will be your wages.”  
The lines sounded bright and cheery and enthusiastic. He was happy. He was smiling. He could see everything. He could see nothing.  
He felt blood dribbling down his face.  
Did it matter?  
He went silent. Ignored the papers.  
One zap. His body shook, energy and pain pulsing through him.  
Two. He wanted to begin again, but he stood strong. Kept his mouth shut.  
Three. He fell off his chair.  
“Weather.” He said, his voice caught in his throat.  
(Weather: I’m Not Ok - Weathers)

Lauren had helped edit the script for Kevin’s show. She listened as he recited the words on the paper, aware of the dangers of failure. But he had failed today. It was so disappointing.

She sat as he recovered.  
“Hello?” He asked.  
“Hello Kev.” She said, sounding just enough like a threat to warn him.  
“Don’t.. call.. me.. that.” He mumbled.  
“Okay Kev.” She said. She tapped her nails on the desk.  
He clutched his head, as his still sensitive ears throbbed in dissent.  
“Take your pills. And then come to my office.”  
“I-”  
“Yes?”  
“I won’t.”  
“Really?”  
He convulsed, his body trying to rebel against the electricity coursing through him.  
“Take your pills. Come to my office.” Her voice had an edge. An edge that seemed to be smiling too hard, not exactly sharp. Just dangerous.  
“N-”  
Another shock. This time a resonance of- sympathy? A resonance of something stirred inside her. But it was so, so hard to feel it. And to venture any further would be to open the floodgates in her mind, the ones that kept her numb. Numb and alive.

Bloodtaheresmilelightfamilyhaileycentreluchelpliverhelpfighresistaawakealonealonealoneinsacrazymonsterbloodhelpalonecrazy-

It was too overwhelming. She closed herself down, down until all that was left was “I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry.” 

It wouldn’t stop. 

Kevin looked at her, he was happy. Happy finally she was suffering.

She couldn’t remember. She hated it. 

The room began to fill with smoke. 

Her fingers dug, pressed so far the lab skin tore. The real flesh tore.

Blood.

But no pleasure.

Disgust.

Her eyes squeezed tight. 

A thought, an old thought played in her head.

I am Lauren Mallard.  
Someone-

She was zapped. It hadn’t happened in such a long time.  
Her body, her body was shaking and dead still, somehow at the same time.

I am Lauren Mallard.  
Someone loves me.  
I will-

She felt the electricity. Her head, hurting. Quieting. It was relief. It was torture.

I am Lauren Mallard.  
Someone loves me.  
I will find a-

She was so close.

White.

White.

She was back in the land of numb and pain. Of being Ms. Mallard.

She was happy.

She was so, so, so desperately sad.

Did it really matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to StrexRep for providing an answer to my ‘is it non-con or con drug use’.
> 
> (Comments are open!)
> 
> Thank you guys!


	16. Chatting with a Smiling God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.   
> This one was fun to write.  
> (Well, some of it was.)
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood  
> Mind control  
> Drugs   
> Dub/con drug use  
> Non-con drug use  
> StrexCollars  
> Sedatives   
> Tell me if there are more.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.  
> Also this was written on a phone so that’s why there may be more mistakes than usual.

Allara stood. Or, more, she didn’t stand. Or, her body did. That’s what her collar told her body to do. And she complied. She did her work well, quietly, albeit involuntarily. She didn’t fight. She had nothing she could fight with.

Time blurred. She wasn’t sure if it was wearing off, or if she would die like this, body still following commands written by a few StrexTechs. If the serum would need to be redone. She didn’t want to fight outside anyway. She was preoccupied with another battle. One with the Smiling God.

‘I don’t believe in you.’  
‘I KNOW.’  
‘You can’t make me, unlike every single other person who you’ve come across.’  
‘I KNOW.’  
‘Well then, what do you want? Also, please stop yelling.’  
‘Oops. Sorry. I just want to make you happy.’  
‘This- this is not happiness! This is broken, shattered people bending with your light and torture and pain! The only happy people here are those who don’t know or understand any different and those who are too broken want change.’  
‘I’m going to make the people happy. Make them kind, get them to understand and work together.’  
‘This isn’t happy. You’re not human, you don’t understand.’  
‘I do. Now there is no discrimination. No hurt. We work together. We smile. I know that they are happy.’  
‘You’re wrong.’  
‘They’re happy.’  
‘No, but you’re not going to listen, are you?’

Kevin looked at the tray. It had a biscuit, a cup of water, and a cup of pills. He swallowed the pills, the dry, starchy taste clinging to his throat. The room he was in was bright, horribly bright. He took a tiny nibble from the biscuit before eating it all, no longer caring about how poisonous it was. 

He was covered in wounds. And, by extension, bandages. There were brown bloodstains, but he couldn’t tell if they were from the latest incident or not. He idly wondered where Lauren was. Where they had taken her. What they would do. 

He tried to reassure himself that the disgusting, sadistic monster that tortured him was okay.

He drank the water, trying and failing to savour it, not drink it all and to keep Lauren, or Ms. Mallard out of his head. But all he could hear were her whispers.

The apologies. The weird mantra thing. 

He heard a click. It was a sedative dose, straight from his collar to his blood. He hated StrexCorp.

When he next opened his eyes he was back in the chair. He felt pain, and he was whispering over and over, the same phrases that had just been burnt into his brain. The usual after a workshop. 

“Good morning Kevin.”  
It was a familiar voice.  
“Daniel?”  
“Yes, that is my name.”  
It sounded different from the person he had known for so long.  
There was a thick heave synthetic edge up his voice which already sounded strange. Stretched.  
Strained.  
“Read the script please.” He said.  
There was a feeling of despair and a tone of anger inside of him.  
As if Daniel could have known.  
As if this was proof that they were broken.  
As if this proved that he couldn’t survive this.

“Good morning Desert Bluffs.”  
Hollow.  
He sounded unhappy and hollow. Or so happy that it no longer had any meaning.  
Reymund wanted to make him stop, make him start again happier.   
The other two thought differently.  
“Today we are living happily under the stiflin- no, the freeing light of the Smiling God!”  
“Stop shifting like that, ‘mund.”  
He hummed in response, wishing he could stop the broadcast. This wouldn’t be good for the workers.   
“This won’t be good for the workers.” He said, wringing his hands.  
“It will.” Polly assured him.  
“They need to learn that we have him, that their little protector has fallen.”  
Isobel said, a smile in her voice.  
“Now a message from our sponsors.”  
It was the same message. Nothing had changed there, but it felt wrong.  
“I can’t listen to this.” He mumbled.   
“Your loss.”

Her tablet pinged.   
Not that it mattered, but this detached apathy seemed to be doing wonders for her. She didn’t even know what had happened, but it had sure hurt. Her body was bloody, her pale, pale blood spilling on the floor.  
She looked at her tablet.  
PLANS FOR PROJECT NVT   
It was a rough, bad plan.   
She started to type.

There were more white pills than usual. Probably to make up for all the blood loss. She couldn’t see anything, the room was spinning, it hurt, it hurt. 

After she downed the pills and the tiny, meagre portion of food, she got back to work, hoping her vision would straighten out.

‘Please stop.’  
‘I can’t.’  
‘Why not? You’re the fucking Smiling God!’  
‘Because StrexCorp will continue even if I pull out.’  
‘Please.’  
‘I’m sorry.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Comments are open.
> 
> Thank you you seventeen people.


	17. Smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> Ngl, I love writing Allara chatting to the Smiling God.  
> It’s really fun.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Dub-con drug use  
> Non-con drug use  
> Torture.  
> Violence  
> Extreme violent.  
> Anxiety.  
> Starvation  
> Dehydration  
> Implied mind control (then again, this whole thing needs a massive mind-control TW if that triggers you)  
> Implied/mentioned violence.
> 
> Again, most of this was written on a phone, so that’s why there may be more mistakes than usual.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

The silence that filled the light was just as bad as the noise. Allara was alone, trapped. There was no way out. The Smiling God was gone.  
‘Hello.’  
She felt like crying.  
‘You’re back.’

Lin sat, finishing yet another description before sending it out to whoever ruled over the perfect corporate place she worked at, lived at. Not that it would be able to help save her. She hummed, smiling, drinking, shifting under the weight of her collar.

Lauren downed her pills, the happiness faint. Her chip was paralysing her as a test for their newest product. Her eyes were dull, face smiling. Body bloody, and rough where it had been torn too many times. She knew they would put her on more, or something stronger soon enough, so she tried to.. enjoy.. the agony of all the faint, torn feelings, where everything was broken and it was not healing, only shattering further. 

“You failed her as well.” Kevin didn’t know what the voice was. But it was quiet, sad, and disappointed. “She was one of us, the young woman.” “Are you talking about Lauren?” “You’re going to be the last Voice of Desert Bluffs. Use your time wisely.”  
A chill ran down his spine.  
Then they whacked the side of his head with a hammer to start the surgery officially.

‘I am.’  
‘Where have you been?’  
‘Making some arrangements.’  
‘You’re the Smiling God. Why did you just disappear and leave me alone?’  
‘Because I fear for the future, so I prepared Heaven.’  
‘Ok. But, I know that you’re a god entity who has trapped me in my own body, in this world of light but I missed you.’  
‘I know. And I’m sorry,’  
‘Why?’  
‘Because I don’t know how to save you either.’

Lin sat in the garish but more tolerable yellow walls in the front, there to help with the fact that most of the walls had been corporately re-decorated. She had to fix her tablet after Colon had stuck some part of an organ into one of the holes. People were staring. Were they staring? Her breath quickened slightly, remembering the time they had staged a meeting to pull off a ‘culling’ . Was this all a trick?  
The door opened. She took a little while to notice the part that was being handed to her, but when she took it she took it with a nod and then almost ran through the corridors.

Lauren hadn’t had water in a long time. She knew better than to ask for it. Her throat was parched and she couldn’t type probably with shaking hands. Or getting food. It had just been a thick concoction of drugs, lies and a fear of sleeping that had been fed to her instead. Obedience, seeing everything as a list of things to do, swallowing the pills she craved was easy. Or, just easier. Existence was so, so hard. A clock ticked in the background. It was loud, incessant. She covered her ears with her palms, eyes squeezing shut. It just kept ticking.

‘Do you have a name?’  
‘Not one that I know of.’  
‘Okay.’  
‘Why Smiling?’  
‘I did not choose what you humans called me.’  
‘Okay.’  
‘Are you alright?’  
‘Yes. I’m okay. This place is empty, but it is okay. You are.. a better being than what I thought.’  
‘Thank you.’  
‘That’s okay.’

Kevin’s vision blurred. They had used something on him, to keep him numb. Or a bit less than numb, but very still. Blood and things shone in his vision, but he was restrained. The pain. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to escape. “I’m sorry.” The voice said. He knew it. He definitely did not know it. “I am too.” He said, his tongue fumbling slightly over the words. No one noticed. Or at least he thought so. Until he heard, “I know.”

Lin put together the bot, hands unnaturally still. There was a click. Her door, her office door was locked. Her heart rate sped up. But she continued working.

It stopped ticking. Finally. Like it was a countdown for the bomb that was her mind. Well, it stopped when she smashed it, glass tearing through skin. Blood sprayed, but it was such a common thing to happen that she barely noticed. There were footsteps in the halls, coming for her. She didn’t care. She kept pounding the clock with her fist, finally, finally broken. Her body was being restrained. She didn’t care. Who did she think would save her? No one. The ghost she met as a child, who made a promise he had never kept. The people in the centre’s who cut her face the first time, swearing that this was what the Smiling God wanted. The version of her who escaped, who she met once. Her past was going to destroy her. The future was going to erase her. They pulled at her thrashing angry limbs, her dull eyes, a mix of addiction, starvation, and everything, everything that had been thrown at her. As they injected one, two, three, four, five needles into her, an almost lethal dose of whatever it was they used to sedate her. She kept thrashing. Her hair was floating slightly. Smoke filled the room, darkening the walls. Then someone took the tiniest serum. The translucent, almost glowing one. They injected.

Lin watched the security footage in the latest StrexAdvert.  
Allara’s compromised body watched the security footage in the latest StrexAdvert.  
Reymund watched the security footage in the latest StrexAdvert.  
Kevin watched the security footage in the latest StrexAdvert.

Lauren smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Comments are open.
> 
> I’m posting less, sorry. My life got even more busy than it was before. I should be able to get an update out for you 18 people before I go on a small break. (Like three days.)
> 
> Thank you guys.


	18. Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. 
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood  
> Violence  
> Mentions of the StrexCollars  
> Drugs and drug use.  
> Tell me if there are more.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

‘I’m sorry.’  
‘What for now?’  
‘You were right. I’m sorry.’  
‘What can we do?’  
‘I’m sorry.’  
Tears flowed down her face. Inside and outside.  
‘I am too.’

Kevin was happy today. He was also angry, so angry.  
His fists clenched as he said the broadcast, his voice smiling, smiling aggressively.

He.

“Today we celebrate another anniversary of StrexCorp control.”

Was.

“We smile, smile, and we praise the Smiling God.”

Going.

“They will be ethically handled and dealt with.”

To.

“We will forget for another day, and smile, smile so hard that our stitches break.”

Make.

“I hope you all are reaching your full productive potentials Desert Bluffs!”

Cecil.

“See you next time Desert Bluffs! See you next time.”

Sorry.

Lin was so sorry. She didn’t know exactly what she had done, but she was sorry.  
She had been trapped in her office for a long time now, her tablet only reading:  
RE-TRAINING PROCEDURE 24.  
She needed water, food, and most of all, her pills. The collar was injecting just enough to keep her cloudy, but not enough to satisfy the need. The room seemed too small. It was dark, so dark, and soundproof. She sat at the door, begging. She was so sorry.

It was light, it was light, she was light, no, no, IT was light, not her, she was light, no, it-she was light. She was light.  
She was grovelling, the light so cold. The people in there had died. But somehow due to some disaster, she had survived.  
She couldn’t remember what she was in there for. But she was sorry.

‘Can you let me out of here?’  
‘I’m so sorry.’  
She was pacing in her head.  
‘Is this an actual place?’  
‘Sorta. It’s an in-between place, like Stasis or The Void.’  
‘How do I get out?’  
‘How did you get in?’  
‘I-‘  
‘How did you get in?’  
‘I-I don’t know.’

Cecil had lied. And look where he was now. Reading deaths of people he knew on the radio, addicted and injured. A collar around his throat. Restraints snug around his whole body. Blood, beautiful blood. He hated himself for not being able to win. But, there was a tiny part of him that was glad that they had failed. That he got to know the wonder of blood and learn so many useful ways to hurt people. But he hated that bit.  
“Keep reading.” The voice of Daniel had an automated tone to it now.  
“We thankfully, smiled, and believed in a Smiling God, learning not to make unproductive and potentially fatal mistakes.” His voice was so… happy, he was pushing the feelings of the pills to such a point that he sounded as angry as he felt.  
“I LOVE the Smiling God so much!” He hoped they could hear the fury, thick and roiling in his voice.  
“Don’t we all?”

“Please let me out.” Lin tried again.  
There was a click. She scrambled to her feet and twisted the knob. It opened. Colan stood outside, blood-drenched and smiling like a wolf.  
“Give me your next round and I’ll let you out.”  
“Please, please just let me out of here.”  
“No, next three rounds.”  
He was holding a canister of something in his hand.  
“You wouldn’t want me to release this much StrexFinish in there, would you?”  
She looked closer. If the can was full the dosage would be lethal. Even if the can was almost empty, it would still craze her enough to make her rip herself apart.  
Shit.  
“Lin?” He asked, sounding so innocent.  
“Yes. Just open the door!”  
“Say it.”  
“What?”  
“Say you owe them to me.”  
She swore she heard a faint beep, but that could have been anything.  
“I owe Colan my next three doses.”  
“Good, now I can turn this into them.”  
“What?”  
“It’s StrexChill, this. You made it, and I find it particularly fun to use.”  
She paused, did she recognise the name? No, but if Colan liked it it had to have been one of the bad ones.  
“Sleep tight.”  
The canister was thrown. The door was slammed. 

COMPREHENSIVE EASY-TO-USE PROCEDURE FOR OVERDOSING A PERSON ON STREXCHILL:  
PERSON WILL FALL ASLEEP.  
PERSON WILL BE TEMPORARILY PARALYSED.  
PERSON WILL NEED DOWNTIME FROM ANY TRAINING UNLESS MORTALITY IS DESIRED.

Lauren was in a coma. They were dying her hair brown, as far as Isobel knew. They were succeeding. They had taken over a whole town.  
“Ma’am?” A child, maybe seven said it, their dark skin scarred. “Yes?” She turned her head away from her work. “It’s not working.” “What?”  
She roughly pulled the child closer.  
“Every time they dye the hair it just turns red again.”  
“Well, tell them to stop. Tell them to put her on the White drip, the Recuperation drip and the Smile drip.”  
The child nodded slightly and ran out, leaving only an empty space there.

She was smiling.  
She was happy.  
She was alive.  
That was all she remembered at that moment. It was comfortable and terrifying.

‘Do you have friends?’  
‘If you count, then yes, I have one friend.’  
‘Other than me, who do you have?’  
‘Another person. He doesn’t know it yet though. He isn’t exactly my friend either.’  
‘Be gentle. We’re fragile.’  
‘I know.’  
‘Why aren’t I… grovelling as well? It would make for sense if I was.’  
‘You’re special.’  
‘I’m not though. I’m a random person who lived at the wrong place and the wrong time. Don’t give me the “you’re not like the other girls” bullshit.’  
‘You are though. Everyone is special. I’ve seen so many minds, and everyone is special, but I can’t see in your mind even if I wanted to.’  
Then there was a long silence.  
‘Hello?’  
It was gone again.  
Allara was yet again alone in this in-between place.  
She was sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Comments are open.
> 
> Thank you guys.


	19. Nat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> This one is pretty tame. Especially by this fics standards.
> 
> I’m going to have a quick (I promise) break so you get a double update!
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Mentions of drugs.  
> Mentions of blood.  
> Tell me if there are more.
> 
> Wow. That’s it.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

“Hey.”  
Lin opened her eyes.  
The world was blurry.  
“Hey, you up?”  
“I think so?” She said.  
“Good.”  
She recognised the voice. It was the new nurse.  
She tried to sit, but felt the sting of the drip needle in her arm.  
“How long was I out for?” She asked.  
“A while.”  
“How long?”  
“A while.”  
They were moving around, putting bandages on wounds.  
“Where am I?”  
“Medical quad.”  
“Where’s Colan?”  
“In the Android workshop, having his base code reprogrammed.”  
“Is Colan an Android?”  
“Didn’t you know?”  
“I don’t know anything around here.”

“Hi.”  
There was a figure, not clad in yellow, looking… young.  
“Hello?”  
The person, clad with a sunflower blouse, khaki jacket and long grey pants.  
“Long time, no see, right?”  
They, or now that Lauren could make out the features, it looked more like a ‘she’ so internally Lauren began referring to her as that, were smiling, but not the thing she was used to. It was a soft and sad thing.  
“Nat?”  
She recognised this person somehow. She knew them.  
“Look, I can’t stay here long. Wow, that’s such a clichè, but Jade can only do so much and I can only hold myself here for a while.”  
Looked exactly like her sister.  
“Nat?”  
She was still wearing her old watch.  
“Hi Laurie.”  
Her nickname, her floodgates had the tiniest hole, and just enough was spilling from them.  
“I’m sure you’re dead. Like, 98% sure.”  
She was hallucinating. Hell, she would probably wake up in her office.  
“I wasn’t, I should be but when- you know what? It’s a long story.”  
She wanted to know. She wanted to know how, and why.  
“Okay.”  
But there was no time, never any time.  
“And I missed you.”  
That was nice, the thought that someone missed her. She had been lonely, so lonely for a long time.  
“I had forgotten your existence up until this point, but I missed you as well.”  
She knew she did. Certainty was a strange, foreign feeling to her, but it was there.  
“We can’t help you, but I promise that not every version of you will suffer through this.”  
That- that was a relief. This was not fair.  
“Thank you.”  
She was grateful. She was angry. She was confused.  
“I’m sorry. I love you.”  
Certainty was a foreign feeling. And a welcome one.  
“I love you too.”  
Not that it would matter in the end.  
The figure started tapping their foot on the ground. Their sister started tapping their foot and then they disappeared into a hole of darkness.  
The linen turned to ash under her palms. 

“Why are you giving me this?”  
Daniel had thrust a phone at him.  
“Because soon, I’m going to go to another workshop.”  
There was so much meaning in between the lines. The fact that he had burned through his programming. The fact they were, yet again, resetting it.  
“Okay.”  
The phone had some photos on it. People.  
His phone.  
It was cracked. The glass was shattered. He cut the tip of his finger on one of the pieces.  
Correction: not just photos of random people, photos of his family.  
It sparked hatred, such hatred within himself because his memories of them were fading.  
Of Jeanine in her wheelchair, looking at the camera, slightly confused.  
Of the wedding.  
Of Vanessa.  
Of everything he had lost.  
He looked up. The yellow insignia.  
And Daniel being dragged away.  
Everything had been lost.

‘I miss you.’  
No response.  
It was pretty pathetic actually, but, hey, who are you to judge?  
She had been alone for a long time.  
Something else was here. Not her.  
Not the Smiling God.  
‘Hello?’  
There was movement, but no response.  
What was it? Who was it?  
Why was it here?

She smiled. It hurt, but she would rather hurt than forever forget. Their evaluation of her came back positive. If she fought their training for slightly longer, she would be able to slip back into the bliss of StrexCorp, and remember her sister and try to decode the cryptic message. She swallowed the food and the pills in front of her, feeling the rush she had wanted.  
“Did you see anyone?”  
It was one of the doctors, their hands folding blood-soaked documents.  
“What?” She said, the lie stinging but it was fine. She wasn’t giving in just yet.  
“The security system in your room was temporarily compromised last night.”  
That was good. If not, they would have already started tracking her sister down.  
“And your training gear was broken, as you may have noticed this morning.”  
She had. There hadn’t been a shock, a zap.  
Smart.  
She felt the training kick in. She smiled harder.  
“Nothing happened.”  
“Are you absolutely sure?”  
Lauren was a good actress.  
“Yes, I am.”

‘Hello Kevin.’  
‘Hello?’  
‘I’m here to offer you something.’  
‘Who are you?’  
‘I’m… well, you know me as the Smiling God.’  
‘Why would I take a deal from you? You’ve ruined my life!’  
‘I didn’t. StrexCorp did. And I’m sorry for helping them.’  
‘True, but, I still don’t trust you and I have no reason to.’  
‘Do you remember Allara?’  
‘The creepy worker?’  
‘I have her, she’s trapped.’  
‘Let her go!’  
‘No… I didn’t mean it like that. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.’  
‘Why not?’  
‘Manners. You don’t mess with other entities, and you don’t mess with their chosen.’  
‘Allara is chosen?!’  
‘Not her exactly, but, manners. Anyway, so are you.’  
‘What? By you?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Why me? And what do you want?’  
‘I want you guys to be happy. Actually happy. I want you to hold on. I’m going to get you out.’  
‘How long will that take?’  
‘I’ll try my best.’  
‘How long?’  
‘A long time.’  
‘Fine. I’ll help. Just get my people out of here.’  
‘Thank you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok..
> 
> Comments are open. 
> 
> Sorry for taking a break.
> 
> Thank you.


	20. Suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> I’m back!
> 
> This chapter is... not the best, but okay.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood  
> Torture  
> Dub-con/non-con drug use
> 
> I think there may be more, so please tell me.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

Reymund watched in wonder.   
“It’s gone.” He whispered.  
The light of the Smiling God was gone.  
“We know.” Isobel said, almost casually.  
But she was scared.

Lauren sat in the office. Her hair was tied up, her face was relatively clean aside from the tiny smear of blood, and she kept writing and writing, burying herself into the work.   
But her mind was preoccupied.   
What had Nat meant?  
Lauren had studied multiverse logic, one of the only subjects that she took that were non-compulsory. It was just something to escape Productivity, Productivity 2, Productivity 3, Productivity 4 and Productivity 5.  
What was she going to do? How was she alive?  
Was she actually Nat?  
If she tried to undo what had been done, then what would happen?  
Why couldn’t she undo all of them?  
How was she going to do this?  
What would it cost?  
The door opened. It was a message. Colan.  
“Tra- You know which room I’m talking about.”  
“Kevin.” She sighed.   
“The little bi-“  
“I get it. I’m coming.”

Nothing had happened. After the Smiling God had left him, nothing.  
He had killed one of the nurses. He didn’t care.   
They weren’t themselves anymore. None of them were. And it had been a while, with time stretching and stretching, they may never be again.  
He could feel himself slipping away, a tiny bit more.   
He hated it.  
Lauren, Lauren who he knew more than he should about, who he didn’t really know at all, came into his room.  
She looked dejected, preoccupied.  
Different.  
Then her attention snapped up to him, and she still had the spark of sadism, of insanity, of hatred in her eyes. And.. an uncharacteristic exhaustion.  
“Hi.” He said, cause, he- he didn’t know.  
“Why are you acting up?”  
It sounded like a whine. A whine that had no emotion.  
“I know I’ll win.”  
She smiled harder. He only realised that he hadn’t even noticed the smile, the very slight bumps in her seemingly perfect skin.  
He was used to it.   
He felt sick. Why?   
“Ok.” She said, turning away. She picked up whatever she wanted. Whatever she would use to cut him up. He didn’t care, he cared so much, was this what dying felt like, what had happened to him, them, why, why, why?  
The blade sliced through his flesh, he was crying out for help that he was now near certain would never come.   
“I’m not going to stop until you admit defeat.”  
“Defeat.” He didn’t care. Shit, the Smiling God actually existed. He was never getting out of here, he was broken.  
“So weak. Can’t have that.”  
Something was glinting in the light.  
The blade twisted.  
“StrexCorp needs you to be more productive. To reach your full productive potential!”  
The room stank of smoke.   
Tears? Were those tears on her face?  
“I know.” He choked out through the pain. It was excruciating, but he was used to it.  
“Smile.”   
Was that through gritted teeth?   
He looked closer at her. She was definitely crying. Or at least, tears were on her face.  
He smiled. It hurt.  
It hurt.  
Smoke snaked around the blade.  
Kevin began to cough.  
Lauren.. finally she was suffering. He was happy.  
Karma? Maybe?

“It’ll return.” Isobel was back to being calm and collected. She watched her colleague with a cold stare.  
“How do you know.”  
It wasn’t a question, it was more a threat.  
“I do.”  
Reymund huffed at that, and continued scuffing his feet.  
“I‘mmagobacktomyworkshopbye!” Polly called, already leaving.  
“Stop doing that.” Isobel said, gesturing to the floor. She hated him. She also suspected the feeling was somewhat mutual.  
“Sorry.” He mumbled, but continued doing it.  
He was insufferable.  
“Bye.”  
“What?”  
He looked like a lost puppy when he looked at her.  
“I’m going.” She turned on heel and walked away, ignoring his flimsy cries of protest.

‘What’s heaven like?’  
‘Pretty. There’s a lighthouse, there are armies.’  
‘Do you think that we’ll make it there?’  
‘I hope so.’  
‘I do too.’

Lin swallowed her pills. Her dry, tasteless food.   
She continued writing equations.  
She smiled. She was productive.  
She had been put on a new pill.  
The red pill. It had made her so much happier.  
More productive.

Polly shoved the report at Isobel.  
“What is this?” She asked, anger grating on her voice.  
“I don’t know!” She shoved a very similar report from her lab at Polly.  
“Who’s trying to poison us?”  
“And why.” Isobel added.  
“Reymund.” Polly knew. She was sure.  
“But, why?” Isobel asked.   
“I don’t know. But it was only ever him and I in the pill room.”  
“True, but why?”  
Polly snapped at her, frustrated, “I don’t know!”  
“Fine.”

Lauren was… unfeeling.

Kevin was glad that finally it was her suffering. Not his.  
Sure, the smoke was suffocating him, but his lungs definitely could survive that.  
But now Lauren was screaming, and she had taken the knife out and stabbed herself with it.   
He was not exactly happy, but he was there.  
And scr- fuck morals, fuck eloquence, he wanted Lauren dead. And he wanted to see it.   
It was a wonder that no one had come to stop them.  
“Lauren! I’ve been waiting for this day for so long.”  
No response.  
Something was happening here. He didn’t care.  
She could die here, and he wouldn’t care.   
Then the door did open, and they took her away, the noise pulling him out of his bloodlust.  
Surely it wasn’t that bad? Surely it had only been a desire for revenge?

The freezer.  
A bunch of gas.  
And time.   
She could only fight her programming directly for so long.  
So long before system failure.  
It was so cold.  
Her fingers and toes should drop off.  
They would. Then they would regrow.   
Curled in a ball, rocking back and forwards.  
Pressed against the wall that had the generator, because that was a few degrees warmer than everything else.  
A repeat, a repeating cycle.   
Every single time. System failure, good old-fashioned defiance.  
She drew a tiny smile in the frost, and then she scratched it out furiously.  
Then she drew a frown. Big.   
She couldn’t stand in the freezer. It was okay.  
It. Was. Not. Okay.  
But slept in there.   
They did something to Kevin.  
Probably the red pills. She had begun to build up a feeble, but existent resistance to the pills.  
She couldn’t save him.  
He wouldn’t save her.

He was happy. Smiling as the Smiling God wanted.  
“Polly, those pills work like a charm.” Reymund remarked.   
Both women were staring at him.  
Or, more glaring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Comments are open.
> 
> This was more... trainwreck-y than I thought it would be.
> 
> Thank you guys.


	21. Crunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> I’m back, finally, with another update. 
> 
> Now, I realise that there is so so much OCing in here. I am sorry for that. So I wrote a long bit of Lauren.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood  
> Addiction  
> Dub-con drug use  
> Breaking bones  
> Being locked in a small space. (The character was not claustrophobic, so the description of that isn’t that vivid.)  
> Being locked in a freezer.  
> There may be more, and if so please alert me, but I think that’s it.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

‘Have you seen them?’  
‘I have.’  
‘Are they okay?’  
There was a long, sad silence that said so much, too much perhaps.  
‘Okay then.’  
‘Do you think that they could heal?’  
‘Do you think they could escape?’  
That sentence made her realise she had never thought that StrexCorp could capture a full town and hold it down. She had always believed that good would win, even if good was almost as bad.

Kevin read his lines cheerfully.   
The people, the people smiling with collars around their necks, with hollow or missing eyes, they still flinched at every syllable of the broadcast.  
They were obedient, and happy, of course they were.  
But lies still rang in their minds.  
The crowd downed their pills

Lin pressed submit, finally done with a bunch of projects.  
She was smiling. Her dark hair was slightly splashed with blood, but she didn’t know that.  
She downed her pills.

Lauren felt.. like it was just a repeat.  
This was the same. Was she in a loop?  
She had been in this freezer.  
There was a cup on the floor.  
Awareness bit her like the cold.  
She did not take her pills. Her fingers twitched, her body yearned, but she kicked over the little plastic cup.

He signed off, broadcast done.  
He pressed his head into the wall, and he tried to centre himself, but he was light.   
He was too happy.  
Almost unnaturally so.  
His collar injected something.  
Did he care what?  
No. They could do what they wanted. Ignorance, apathy, happiness, this was bliss.  
This was living. He was sure of it.

‘Who am I?’  
‘What are you asking?’  
Allara fidgeted in her virtual body.  
‘I’m not actually Allara, am I?’  
The silence, the silence was screaming this time.  
‘I know you’re there.’  
‘I can’t tell you.’  
‘Why not?’  
‘I don’t want to annoy my neighbours.’

Lin’s mind was coated, compressed into radio static.   
The buzz, and the silence.  
She continued her work, not watching too carefully for what they wanted. They just wanted control. And she could give it to them.  
She did. It was just so easy. So easy to stop fighting, to forget, to swallow what they gave you, to do what she was good at and what her tablet ordered her to do.

“Why have you been poisoning us.”  
Isobel’s tone was like ice. It was sharp, cold and also was melting slightly.  
They all were, despite everything, still friends.  
“I wanted to make you recall the pills.”  
He wasn’t going to lie.  
“Why?” Polly asked.  
“Because I know I’ll be next.”  
They shared a look. He knew it was true already. But that confirmed it. And broke his heart.  
“We were only going to use it until you stopped questioning the Smiling God.”  
And then what? He would get addicted, and sure, his friends were sadistic, but they wouldn’t leave him to suffer.  
So then they would either take him off or they would keep him on.   
He didn’t want to find out what they would do.  
“Promise no more?”  
Isobel was proposing this to him. It sounded strange, an honest deal coming from her mouth.   
“If you’re not going to drug me up and leave me to die.”  
They flinched. He hoped they were confronting the truth.  
“Okay. We promise.” Polly said. It was the first time in a long time that she had sounded like she was there.  
“Yeah. I won’t hurt you ‘mund. Sorry.”  
“Sorry.” He apologised, but he didn’t mean it. But he really hoped they did.

She breathed, her chest shuddering. The tips of her fingers had grown icy, and she had snapped them off. It was a bad idea, but she had nothing left to do but to live or die.  
She was done. The numbness was back. It invaded her every thought. Flame, flame sprung from the bloody fingertips.  
It flickered out.  
She was going insane.  
She pulled her fingers along the wall, the blood mixing with the sharp ice crystals.  
It looked beautiful.  
It looked like an abomination.  
Was there any difference for her?  
She was made of rhetorical questions, overwhelming memories, programming, and light. So much light that she wondered if there was any room left for just Lauren.  
Whoever that was.  
There was also the grief, the grief for everything she couldn’t quite grasp, for what could have been.  
Sometimes she spent ages imagining a world where she had escaped. It never lasted, but it was nice.  
And that, that was why Natalia’s cryptic promise to her had meant so much. It was a chance for some of that to happen.  
It was a chance for her to have a proper life, a proper future.  
This was nowhere near having real life.  
She was dying. Not feeling life. She only felt when she was dying.  
That was so horrible.  
She kicked the wall bitterly, her fragile, malnourished bones crumbling, but she was already dying.  
She kicked the cup over.   
The pills beckoned. She jumped forward, ignoring the fact that she should probably conserve her energy.  
The crunch made her want to crumple up and die.  
The crunch was so damn satisfying, like she had finally won over them.  
That was exactly what it was.   
She. Had. Won.

‘You’re so annoying.’  
‘I know. I’m sorry.’  
‘Why can’t you just tell me?’  
‘I could have got him to tell you, but he’s dead now, and desperate times call for desperate means.’  
‘Who is “he”?’  
‘The person who was meant to do this.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Sorry for the delays.
> 
> Comments are open. 
> 
> I can’t believe twenty six people have read this!
> 
> Thank you guys.


	22. Prophet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> I really meant it when I said that was getting really busy.
> 
> Anyway, sorry.
> 
> TWs for this chapter!:
> 
> Scars  
> Pain  
> Electrocution   
> Drugging (non-con and dub-con)  
> Mentions of memory issues  
> Flashbacks  
> Torture   
> A suicide attempt*
> 
> *This has been marked out by ———— above and below it.  
> Please be self-aware, and understand that you do not have to read it. I cannot emphasise that enough.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

“Kevin?” When someone called his name, he flinched. The scars, the scars that covered him creased in confusion. It was Daniel. Not that it was really Daniel, but it was him. Somewhere.   
Not that Kevin knew any of this. Whatever he had been taking, it was strong. All he remembered was his name. His job. His productivity. Everything else was lost in the light. Not that the light was the same. It was not renewing. It was old, and festering. The Smiling God was long gone.  
“Keep talking.”  
That meant keep reading. Keep spoon feeding propaganda to the public. Keep helping them forget. Helping himself forget.  
He did, his throat hurt. His eyes stung. Everything hurt. But he kept smiling, obeying.  
When the broadcast was done, it never really was, but when he got his break, he swallowed more pills, feeling better.   
He didn’t feel any existentialism. He didn’t ask. He knew, silently, that he wouldn’t like what he would find, and that was only if he would be able to figure out what it was.  
“Hello Desert Bluffs.” He rasped.   
It was a different greeting. But it was what was on the paper. He blinked, and started again.  
“Good morning Desert Bluffs-“  
He finished, finished the greeting, and then he felt the electricity coursing through him. Then he felt the smooth erasure.   
It was broadcast time. It was such an uncharacteristic, unproductive thing for him to do, not starting yet.  
“Hel-“  
Wait, that wasn’t how he started. His thoughts spun.   
“Good mo-“  
Zap. Erasure.   
Broadcast time. He was over thirty seconds in. So unproductive, dangerously so.  
“Hello Desert Bluffs.”  
But then he stopped.  
“Good mor-“  
This time he felt the throbbing of his body, his head. Beautiful images of bodies, people he had killed, flashed.  
Another zap. Erasure.  
“Hello Desert Bluffs.”   
It felt a bit out of place, but that was what StrexCorp had decided for him.  
“Are you smiling?”

‘Who was that?’  
‘Stan? Do you know him?’  
‘I’ve spent most of my life in a faci-‘  
‘True. Anyway, being a prophet was his job. But now he’s dead and Desert Bluffs needs a prophet now more than ever.’  
‘Do you know what else lives here?’  
‘Sometimes other entities stay here, or get trapped.’  
‘I saw something weird moving around yesterday in the light.’  
‘Probably a wraith. They’re generally harmless.’  
‘What?’  
‘You’ll be fine. Anyway, I’ll be back soon.’  
‘Thank you.’  
‘What?’  
‘First time you’ve told me you’re leaving.’  
‘Bye.’  
‘Bye.’  
Allara watched the things move around.   
“Hello?”  
“Hi.” A being appeared in front of her.  
“Who are you? How are you here?”  
“I’m living in an Android body, so they trapped who I am here.”  
“Who are you? I’m Allara.”  
“I’m Daniel. How are you here?”  
“A new formula. My body’s a complete puppet.”  
“Ooh. I’m sorry.”  
“Me too. How is everyone?”   
“I don’t know. I only see them occasionally when the programming slips. I miss them.”  
“I wish I had anyone else to miss. My memory is screwed.”  
“That sucks. Mine too, just not the same scale.”  
“Hey, I have you. And the Smiling God.”  
“What? How and why would you talk to that monster?”  
“They aren’t bad. They just misunderstood.”  
“Okay. Sure.”  
“They just wanted us to be happy. But they’re not human, so they didn’t know how to.”  
“Why they? Not It?”  
Allara considered that for a second. In her head, The Smiling God had been an ‘It’ for a while. But now it was really her only friend…  
“Trust? Friendship. I don’t know. Something along those lines.”  
“Anyway, you’ll probably see me around. Bye…”  
“Allara.”  
“Sorry, I’m bad with names.”  
“Bye Daniel.”

Lauren woke up. Still in the freezer. There was an injection she felt.   
It was keeping her alive.  
It dawned on her.   
They weren’t going to let her die. They wanted her alive.  
Her fingers had already healed. 

————  
She began smashing her head into the wall, hoping the impact would kill her or break her chip.  
It hurt, but, by her standards, it was fine.  
Blood splattered. She cried, tears and blood on her face.   
Alarms sounded.  
Her frenzy, her self-destructive frenzy, she hoped would finally end her.  
People dragged her away. But she was already so, so close to death.  
————

She was revived. Then they added padding to the walls of the freezer.  
Her body brushed off her injuries so easily. She had failed.

‘Kevin?’  
This voice was familiar, but only vaguely. It was slightly louder than needed, and it was in his head.  
‘Yes?’ He thought back, not knowing the proper standards for a productive thought conversation.  
‘Right. They got to you too.’  
‘What?’ He was confused. Who was ‘they’? Was it StrexCorp? Because they had helped him, not gotten to him.  
‘I’m the Smiling God.’  
What? Really? Was this truly his god?  
‘And you asked for aid. The issue is, I need to get a favour from the entity next door, and I need Allara to do that.’  
When had he asked for aid? Why would he ask for aid?  
‘Who’s Allara?’  
The being sighed.   
‘It’s just someone.’  
Daniel watched him, the light spilling from Kevin’s closed eye husks.  
‘I’m going now. Goodbye Kevin.’  
‘Wait! Could you.. maybe.. keep talking sometime?’  
There was a moment's pause.  
‘Okay.’  
Then the light was gone.  
“What was that?” Daniel snapped.  
“The Smiling God, Daniel!”  
“What?”  
The automated tone made Kevin giggle as he said, “The Smiling God is talking to me!”  
“So you’re the...prophet now?”  
“Mmm.” He considered the word.  
“I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Sorry again.
> 
> Comments are open.
> 
> Thank you guys!


	23. Reveal. P1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Yes, I’m very, very sorry for the delays.  
> Yes, this is going to be at least a few chapters.  
> I only can work on this now on my daily commute, which isn’t much.  
> My work-life balance is non-existent.  
> But, I will not stop until the story is done or I am.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Gore.  
> Blood.  
> Trauma.  
> StrexCollars.  
> Mentions of anxiety.  
> Mentions of withdrawal.  
> Misgendering accidentally*
> 
> This one is pretty good for blood and gore.
> 
> *So, the narrator in this story is only as knowledgeable as the character who is the focus of the narration at the time. So when said character is misgendered by said narrator, it’s because the narrator only knows as much as other said character knows.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

Lin sat. The butchering was done. She could yet again retreat to her lab.  
She would get a new workshop area now. She didn’t like this one, but they were repurposing it yet again back to a children’s home.  
She had seen some photos, and if she hadn’t disabled her chip very, very slowly and then worked on her collar, she wouldn’t have seen that it was hell.  
However, she had been struggling with withdrawal and anxiety and still wasn’t in the best headspace when she observed this photo.  
If she had, she would have recognised two faces in the photo. Lauren and someone who she just couldn’t place.  
And if she had been in an even better headspace, she would have recognised both faces and been able to give them names.

‘You’re the channel for Red Mesa.’  
‘What?’  
The Smiling God had been awfully quiet all morning.  
And now this.  
There was more. But it wasn’t going to be today that she found out. She was sure of it.  
‘That’s why you’re special. And you’re part void creature, so that’s why darkness leaks out of you occasionally.’  
‘What?’  
Allara understood just fine. But process, to process. She retreated into the less blinding light. She knew the Smiling God could follow her. But they didn’t. And that broke her heart slightly more. That the one being who cared about her safety the most was an incorporeal being.

“Hi.” The dry voice woke Lauren up. It wasn’t Nat. It was like… a smaller version of Nat with slightly darker hair. She had a bunch of wood.  
“Can you light this on fire? It’s cold, and I don’t have pyrokinesis.”  
She did a once over.  
“Come on! You forgot you can light things on fire? Cmon, just… try.”  
Lauren did. There was a sucking feeling inside her fingers.  
“Mm. Are you.. icky with blood and stuff?”  
When Lauren shook her head, the girl grabbed her hand and pulled a knife out of her pocket and sliced open the skin.  
There was a little thing there, and the girl pulled it out with triumph.  
She proceeded to do that with all of her fingers, crushing the things when she was done.  
“Now try.” Lauren felt something click. Then..  
“Oh yeah!” The child in the room smiled at the fire. Who was this person anyway?  
“I, my friend, am Jade. I’m half of Nat’s old soul, half all me. Anyway, I have all sorts of mind-powers, and I picked up on you suffering, and Nat wanted me to do some broadcasting because I was getting fidgety. So.”  
“What?” Lauren said, her first word in a while. Flame began to burn in her palms.  
“First, clench your fists. Hell no, I’m not burning to death. Secondly, then put your hand on mine. I know it’s cringey, but just do it.”  
“Fine. But what’s cringey?”  
“Oh. Wait. Ohhh. You know what? Just do it.”  
Lauren (mildly begrudgingly) stifled the flame. Then she put her hand on Jade’s.  
Hiyelpowutexcuhuandinoyesqueugoinredhunghknowlno-  
She pulled her hand back.  
“Ohh. Sorry. It can be a bit overwhelming at first.”  
“Understatement. But what was that?”  
“That was all the thoughts I’m listening to right now. And a few I’m controlling.”  
Lauren didn’t exactly feel surprised. More… something foreign.  
She felt… alive.

Kevin was doing a workshop when it appeared again, interrupting his screams.  
‘Hi.’  
He smiled, not only because there was no other choice, but because there was something who cared.  
‘Hi. What are you doing?’  
There was a sigh, as if the Smiling God had regrets. Surely it didn’t?  
‘I’m looking for a way out that wouldn’t break someone.’  
He wondered what that meant, but then the thought was censored, causing another scream.  
‘Why would you need a way out? All of this is perfect?’  
Another sigh. Sadness powered this one instead of exasperation.  
‘This was a mistake.’  
Panic gripped him.  
‘Will you be back?’  
There was a long silence. Then a faint,  
‘Yes.’

Lauren saw the flame eternally burn. It confused her.  
‘It’s you, your… something. That’s what it’s burning.” Jade said it so casually.  
“Right.”  
Jade looked at her. “Also, it’s neither. I’m not a girl.”  
So, that meant they were in Lauren’s head. Nice to know, but still,  
“Sorry.”  
Jade rolled their eyes. “Chill out. I’m not doing anything to your thoughts. You’re fine.”  
It still felt disconcerting.  
“I know. Sorry. And- fine, the weird feeling is just me trying to suppress any…”  
Homicidal thoughts?  
“Less… palatable things. The people here are… broken.”  
Another understatement.  
“I know.”  
They turned to her, their young features twisting as they tried to suppress any pity that they might be feeling.  
“I can’t handle your thoughts.”  
It was a statement.  
It was cold. And it was sad.  
“Nat misses you. The sentimental fool.”  
The sentence had only traces of Jade’s normal bravado.  
She felt something push in her mind. It was a horribly weird feeling.  
“I’m sorry.” Jade said it so kindly, the pity in their voice tangible.  
And Jade must have seen something.  
And before Lauren knew, tears were silently spilling down her face.  
Because she was sorry too.

Allara was lonely, so she finally emerged from the mist.  
‘Are you okay?’  
No. There was no way she was okay. She might never be okay again. She may have never been okay. This tiny thing, it was crumbling her. She had reached her boiling point.  
Spools of the even brighter light poked at her gently. It should be invading her, taking over.  
It should be.  
‘Why is it like this?’  
There was a silence then. She was shaking. She might have been crying.  
The light wrapped around her gently.  
She would have been marvelling at how it was picking her up. But she was barely feeling it pick her up, and she was breaking down. Crashing.  
Her sleep-deprived, starved true body shook as well, in the middle of a StrexCorp advert.  
“I’m sorry Allara.”  
The voice sounded so human, so horribly human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Don’t worry. There’s more.
> 
> Comments are open, I’m sorry, and 
> 
> Thank you!


	24. Reveals. P2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Big thank you to Natalie Chavez, who gave me permission to use her work in this fic. The song I took it from is: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5SDkbqZs9hg&lc=z23ci3b4coyberh31acdp4315ybuv3445ayhp0ysuwxw03c010c&feature=em-comments  
> And she’s an amazing singer.  
> So.. check her out?
> 
> Anyway. As I said, I’m very sorry for any delays.  
> Doing this is one of the best bits of my week, my days.  
> Okay, that rhymes. Anyway.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Trauma.  
> Pain.
> 
> There are definitely more, so PLEASE tell me what they are.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

“So, I just want you to vent.”  
“What?”  
“Just think of what you want to say and rant. And it’ll be a back and forth thing. You vent, people will hear and respond.”  
“Why? How will this help!”  
“I don’t know man. Nat just said she wouldn’t let me back in the car until I did this.”  
“Fine..”  
She tried to think of something meaningful to say.  
‘Hello?’  
‘Strexhappypils-‘  
“Wait, I’ll do a quick moderation run.” There was a brief pause, then Jade said, “Ok. Try again.”  
‘Hello?’  
‘Lauren?’  
‘Ms Mallard?’  
‘How are you speaking in my head?’  
‘I wish you were dead.’  
That one was Kevin. His voice was so sunny, yet so bitter.  
‘Lauren?’  
It was so familiar, it hurt.  
Talia.  
Then it was gone.  
Lauren brushed away any irrational hope.

Why was Lauren in his head? The anger that the pills tried to smother burned.  
He was ranting back.  
‘Are you gonna have a change of heart? Save us?’  
There was a weird rummaging in his head.  
‘Are you going to dare to act like you’re anything more than scum. A monster.’  
Then there was another voice.  
‘Please stop. You’re going to make her cry.’  
He was too tired, too done to question.  
‘And who are you?’ He asked, trying to sound like he knew what he was doing.  
He didn’t.

‘What is that?’  
Allara shrugged. She, of all people, definitely didn't know.  
‘It’s… of course. Why now?’  
‘Who?’  
‘Just… other humans. But then Ik-‘  
‘Right. Why is Lauren speaking in my head?’  
‘How would I know?’  
‘You’re a god!’  
‘Well, true. But still.’  
‘But still what?’  
‘I’m dying. My heart is broken and dying.’  
The voice of Lauren rang out.  
Something flickered in front of Allara.  
It was a person. She couldn’t recognise who.  
‘I’ve never done this before.’ The Smiling God said from the person.  
And Allara was grabbing, because she wanted to feel, and she couldn’t care less that it was a god.  
And they were grabbing back, hands clutching. In apology. And friendship.  
‘I’m not ‘Promising’ Talia. I swear.’  
Allara shivered.  
Something was happening inside of her. Darkness swelled like a shell around her and the Smiling God.

Jade was sweating. Lauren was thought-ranting.  
Jade could feel it all.  
They were filtering away things that would shatter the remaining fragments of cognitive dissonance that Lauren had.  
They could feel Nat, her anxiety.  
Kevin’s broken mind, that was barely able to identify Lauren as his torturer.  
Talia’s confusion.  
Lin’s shock.  
And so much pain.  
They were shaking. They could react, but they were too full of other people’s pain to express it.  
Lili was soothing them to the best of her ability.  
And Jade clenched their teeth, because this would not be the worst thing they would have to go through.  
It wasn’t the worst.  
But it hurt.  
But Jade was not afraid of pain.

Kevin was frozen, listening to Lauren scream.  
Scream, because she was not the villain.  
She was angry at the concept of heroes.  
At herself.  
At StrexCorp.  
‘What about the lonely little girls in cells their whole lives?’  
‘I don’t know.’  
“What about when StrexCorp takes them, breaks them and then leaves them?’  
‘I’m sorry!’  
‘You never came to save your own world. Not me. Not anyone. Not the children I killed. You didn’t save my world. Our world.’  
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’  
“You failed.’  
There was a pause. Kevin covered his ears, not wanting the voice to go. Any truth was better than the lies.  
‘But no one ever apologises.’  
There was another pause.  
‘And you did.’  
Finally he found silence. And a temporary peace.

Lauren was done. Jade could feel it.  
They watched the room turn black for a second.  
Someone was seeking one of them out.  
But the power signature wasn’t Nat’s.  
It was… they rummaged in Lauren’s memory.  
It was… Talia’s?  
The dark and the fire twisted together. Jade caught them, not bothering to try and figure out how they existed.  
“Here.” They said, passing it to Lauren.  
It soaked into her skin.  
A message.  
STILL HERE TOO.  
“Who’s Talia?” Jade asked, trying to sound casual.  
“Long story. Why?”  
“Cause that’s who the power signature of the darkness is from.”  
Lauren absorbed that, then said, “Okay.”  
Jade knew better than to push.  
Lauren created ash. She had nothing to burn, but apparently she could. She poured it on the floor.  
Started drawing.  
It was a ritual. Of course it was a ritual. Jade needed to visit home more often.  
Or, maybe not anymore.  
But then Lili appeared in the room.  
“Don’t do that please. Talia is alive, I promise.”  
“Who are you again?” Her exasperation, desperation and apathy mixed in her voice. But it only sounded sad.  
“I’m Lili, and I’m sorry for your loss. But please don’t try to summon a demon.”  
To be more specific, Lili was the entity who had been hired to make sure that Heather didn’t destroy the world, but she generally stuck to living within Jade. They were used to it.  
“Why not?”  
“Cause your universe is one of the only versions that we’ve catalogued that could have a future.”  
It was true. Heather didn’t like cataloguing broken realities. It gave her headaches. And probably more, but Heather wasn’t going to admit that.  
Lauren smudged whatever unholy symbol she had wrote.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah. But if you summon a demon, you die, the people who are trapped die and then the potential for future is gone.”  
“Potential for future.” Lauren said it like it was a decent proposition.  
“Potential for future.” Lili said.  
She blipped out of the room.  
Lauren’s fists lit up. She was trying to stifle the flame. Tears were running down her face and they were molten.  
The ice melted.  
The room lit up with a warm light.  
Lauren was screaming.  
Jade couldn’t hear her. They were being drowned in Lauren’s thoughts.  
They felt like they were breaking.  
They could work on fixing, but that was hard, and dangerous. Jade wasn’t going to risk it.  
And Lauren was smart and strong. She would survive.  
Survival. She would find it. They would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Comments are open, and this is going to be... interesting.
> 
> Thank you.


	25. Revealed.P3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> I truly really like this chapter.  
> Anyone figure out Allara (or, well, you’ll see) before the Reveal miniseries?
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Trauma.  
> Pain.  
> Anxiety.  
> StrexCollars.  
> PTSD.  
> Mentions of flashbacks.
> 
> There are almost definitely more.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

‘Allara.’  
She was shaking, panic gripping her.  
‘Please try to stop.’  
They were pleading, but she couldn’t hear it.  
Darkness was blossoming.  
They finally pulled her out, out of her own dark, making it dissipate.   
Except shards of it flew away into people.   
Her eyes were squeezed shut.   
It was sometime before she opened her eyes, peeking almost comically first.  
The light was wrapped around her, somewhat lovingly, somewhat confusedly.   
Like the Smiling God didn’t know what to do with her breaking point.  
That was hard to swallow. It was sad.  
‘Are you okay?’ They asked, cautiously.  
‘I know now.’  
‘I’m sorry.’  
‘I forgive you. I needed to see this one for myself.’

Kevin was Kevin.   
He sat, his scarred face twisted, tears were running down his cheeks, feeling everything. Feeling nothing.  
He knew what everyone was thinking. He could feel everything.   
He was blotting out his own feelings. He couldn’t feel anything.  
He clutched his head, his dark skin fading into the walls. His power rippled dangerously, but fuck safety.  
Fuck it all.  
Then a shard, sharp and made of void flew at him.   
Lost in his own abyss, it hit him.

You’re found.

It said. The voice in it said. Allara said. In his head. 

Lin was curled up under her desk, convinced that she had lost it and they were coming to kill her or fix her. She was drowning in anxiety.   
The shard was small. Painful.

You’re found.

The other recruit, the one who came only a little bit after her abduction and subsequent training flashed at her.   
A random cell she had worked in, one which had been a children’s home. And it was now going to yet again, be a home for children. But this time, a home for all of the refugees from Desert Bluffs. And.. oh.

You’re found.

Daniel, whose body was finally accepting his mind, for once in forever, sat in the dark. All of the Android parts were flashing, but any worry about that was gone.  
The girl he had spoken to. Her name, her true name was gleaming like the North Star in his head.

Isobel paced, terrified about the disaster that was to come after this. Suddenly, yet another message slammed into her.

You are lost.

And it carried with it such pain, that she crumbled, collapsing, letting her legs give out.

Lauren breathed. Her scream had hurt her throat. Jade was concerned. And then the shard of darkness hit her. 

I knew you would make it.

Talia. That was Talia. That was her. That- she was sure of it. Her world rocked. Jade held her up. She made a tiny shard out of fire and sent it back.

Allara stood.   
Talia stood.  
Chance stood.  
Riley stood.  
Munda stood.  
She was all of them.   
She was Allara, who had done this.  
She was Chance, who had set off bombs.  
She was Munda, who killed her supervisor.  
She was Riley, who survived a plague.  
She was Talia, who got them here.  
She was five people.   
No.  
She had been.  
Her memories were shattering, and combining.  
And then the mist parted slighted as a tiny shard of fire flew in. 

You came.

Lauren.

She was Allara. She was Talia. She was Tallara, which she made up on the spot. She liked the name.

Another shard.

I’m here.

Lauren shuddered. Jade watched her carefully, but they were also trying to desperately filter all thoughts in this centre and Lauren’s and understand how. It would have been the easiest thing they had done lately, except they weren’t immune to emotion. They were holding it together, Lili was helping, and they weren’t going to stop.

Lauren yet again sent a flame, hope igniting like the wildfire that lived in her soul. She felt so much. She would manage that, could manage that. She just wanted the person on the other end of the line to do it with her.

The hole in the multiverse where the Smiling God   
lived. The hole where lost souls were trapped by a soulless system and company. The hole that Tallara had started to call home. The hole where she had found herself. Now that same timeless, beautiful hole was lit up with a show of void, flame and unholy light intertwining like ribbons. If this had been anything else, the Smiling God would have removed it. But Tallara, with tears on her face, was smiling. Laughing and holding onto their lights between sobs.  
They liked this type of happiness. It looked nice. The aura looked nice.  
And, they loved Tallara. Like a parent. Like a friend. Or maybe just like themselves, with no labels, human or otherwise in the mix.  
Then a voice called. One they recognised. They left Tallara in her wonder.  
Because if Elena was here then the rest might be as well.  
And Tallara would lose the droplet of euphoria she had found if they were here.

Lin was breathing as slow as she could, keeping her mind as silent as her annoying brain would allow, and tried to figure out what to do. First she finished disabling her devices. Her hands were shaking, and her anxiety was rising and gnawing and she felt unsafe, she need-   
She finally swallowed the pills for anxiety they had given her. The ones she had refused to take, her subconscious barely, but recognising the anxiety as the biggest bit of her left, something to protect.  
And she was stifling it.  
It silenced.  
In relief, her legs buckled. Her fingers stilled.   
Then she started to rig her programming that she could find. Rig it to never suffocate her again. That was her brain’s job, not theirs.   
It had already been started, yet still took a fair chunk of time to do.  
She would derail everyone’s programs if she could. She couldn’t.  
But she worked, sure that if anything, she would help with the demolition of this heartless beast of a company who took the future of Desert Bluffs away, who ruined the children’s lives, and fuck them as well for taking her potential away. For scarring her in a way she was not prepared for, in a way that no one should have to be prepared for. Everyone mattered. Look at what she had done.  
Tallara and Lauren, the people who had wreaked havoc today.  
Colan, the sadist who had been inserted straight into a place perfect for him.  
Polly, her boss, who had perfected multiple formulas and devices and so many other things.   
All the people, the people who were on the scale of innocence, who she had hurt. Cut. Scarred.   
She tried to ignore the flashing images, reciting all she knew about PTSD and trying to distract herself as her mind presented her over and over with irrefutable proof that she was a bad person, that she deserved the pain she was feeling, was receiving.  
She kept going. There was nothing left to do. And she might be a villain. But she had to keep going, for the fear that if she stopped, there would be no continuing.

Daniel laid down. His joints creaked, overworked and underserviced. He let the cool meat table clank against the body that had been changed and hurt in ways he had not consented to. He was planning to stop, to retreat back into the mist, because this wasn’t worth it. The mist was calm. This was chaos, and he couldn’t handle that.  
In the light he saw constellations of darkness, massive and beautiful.   
In the shadow he saw the world, obscured almost poetically by the lights.   
He could manage here.  
He could manage this life in the void. There’s nothing he could do to save his body. But there were people here, and he could find them.  
He could have a new purpose.  
It was a comforting idea.  
Far more comfortable than the reality.

None of the bosses knew how to deal with this.  
Apart from Polly whistling and saying plainly, “Well, we’re fucked now.”  
They had expected an uprising.  
Instead, they found a collapse.   
There were no mobs of people coming to kill them.  
But there were mobs of the people clawing at their necks and their eyes, people crying, people in shock.  
Not exactly the disaster they had envisioned, but a disaster nonetheless.  
“How did this happen?” Reymund asked in dismay.  
Isobel didn’t care. She was reeling from shock just as much as anyone else in the centre.  
She was trying to remember how she got here, why she worked here, who she was.  
Polly was also distracted, distant.  
Everything had fallen apart.

Lauren lit up the freezer, her flame warm and angry.  
Tallara darkened the realm of the Smiling God with constellations of the void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> This is important.
> 
> I worried about which communities I might possibly offend with my writing often. (Thanks a lot brain, it’s much appreciated.) And I just wanted to say that what happened to Tallara, is not meant to say anything at all about the DID or OSDD community. I hadn’t thought that it might be interpreted that way, but I don’t want it to and that was by no means my intentions.
> 
> To any other communities or people I have offended, I am sorry, and just tell me. I don’t mean to romanticise things that should never be romanticised, to paint an unrealistic portrait of anything or to be offensive and rude, yet time and time again have proven I am.
> 
> As always, comments are open. 
> 
> Thank you.


	26. Press Pause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> So, what I’m writing now is nice. It’s giving my poor characters and readers a chance to have a break from slaughter, and a break from constant trauma and, well everything else that comes with it.
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Anxiety  
> Mind control
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.  
> (But this chapter is pretty safe in terms of triggers.)

Elena looked impatient.  
Then again, she had probably had a long day.  
She was here, and it meant trouble. And business.  
The Smiling God wondered what their name was. If they had a true name, and where it had gone, and why it was gone or why they didn’t have one other than ‘The Smiling God’.  
Elena tapped her foot, the boredom on her face heavy with exhaustion.  
‘What are you doing here?’ They asked her, studying her for any other entities.  
‘Why have these two lines converged again?’ She asked, trying to bait them.  
‘That wasn’t my fault.’  
Her foot kept tapping, and she scowled.  
‘Look, I know you and Huntokar have some shit between each other, but please just don’t make me sort it out. I’m not into death or conflict resolution.’  
And Elena shouldn’t have to manage this. She was a major entity, like them. But now she was constantly taking a human form, and managing the many many whims of the multiverse.  
It was a bit of a pity.   
No, a pity.  
‘Look, I don’t want to have to separate them, because obviously they’re helping the wreckage of your world, and the fate of their world isn’t great either, but they were split up for a reason.’  
They knew. It was painful to manage infinite broken realities, a lot like this and a lot not like this.  
‘I know, but I need you to trust me with this one thing.’  
Elena looked pained, carefully debating what she would say next.  
‘I’m trusting you with a lot already.’  
She made a chair and sat.  
It felt strange, but she looked too tired to stand.  
‘Today’s been a particularly awful day. A lot of splitting my soul up, dealing with more degenerate realities and a lot with the less pleasant gods.’  
Her image filled out better as she pulled in more of the splits, and she stood up.  
The chair lingered precariously in the world before she pulled it out.  
She looked around. And they realised she had been accessing.  
Her form flickered with exhaustion, but she said,  
‘Okay. They can stay until your people stabilise. Then they have to go, and wait until the crisis arises again.’  
It was kind, even a lenient, ruling. They accepted it because Elena shouldn’t have to fight them as well.  
‘I haven’t seen one of your worse ones so functional and alive for a while, Smiley.’  
They made a human form and hugged Elena, feeling the power buzz under her skin and she, slightly reluctantly, hugged back.  
‘Thank you.’ They said.  
Elena smiled back and blipped out.

Polly sat in her lab, the metal walls clean.   
Her computer glowed and eerie green, barely illuminating the walls of the room.   
It was funny, because Polly understood that all life is a story, and she was one of many useless side characters.   
But she continued, because in some stories, being a side character was a good thing.   
Like this one.   
She also knew she was one of the bad guys. Unlike some of her colleagues, she could see that what they were doing was wrong. She could see the monsters, and in everyone’s eyes, she should probably look in a goddamn mirror.  
She also knew this was either hyperawareness, insanity, or the ninth sense. She would rather the ninth sense, but she tried not to believe that she had control over any aspect of her life. It only led to disappointment when life proved over and over that that was not the case.  
The ninth sense was the ability to understand that the world you lived in is a story. And it was strange.  
But that was the best way to describe how Polly felt.   
But, that was unimportant, irrelevant. A bit like her.  
Instead, what mattered was that the feeling of certainty, the way she knew and swallowed almost unflappably accepted the present, because she knew the future.  
And she now could feel it, a shift in her gut.   
And the future had changed.  
Not that she would tell you.   
She had a side character reputation to uphold.

Lauren held Jade, passing flames back and forward.  
Her eyes glowed bright in the yellow light, and Jade knew eventually she would blow out again, when the realisation of the horrifying, endless depth to her ability hit her.  
But that wasn’t for now.  
Right now, it was passing notes through realities, restoring a speckle of childhood that both of them had lost.  
And Jade liked watching this. Her smile reminded them of Heather’s smile, and she hadn’t seen that for a while, her travelling companion bleak.  
Lauren looked sick in most light, the grey lights of freezers, the orange lights meant to disorientate in hallways, the light making her malnutrition, and tiny shows of the things she had endured obvious.  
But this light made her look younger. Made her look like she was recovering from the cards that life had played against her rather than dying from them.  
It made Jade happy.  
They were proud.   
They weren’t censoring the messages, but they were still trying to soothe the whole centre.   
It was giving them a headache, but it was worth it.  
This was worth it.

Lin was finished. She ran through the programming of other people, until she noticed one thing that was constant, other than the fact that they weren’t trying too hard to hide the intentions of this programming.  
They were blatant with their attempts to create, and just as blatant with their attempts to destroy.   
It was sickening to see how well they had worked. It wasn’t a program for a computer exactly, but it would vaguely resemble it for some who understood neither computer programming or StrexCorp, which there are quite a few of.  
But there was one thing that was the same. A word embedded in the lines, over and over.  
Onism.  
After some more digging, she figured out what it was. What it would do.   
She laughed. It was bitter.   
This word, it would do a reset of memory. Effective immediately.  
Onism. It didn’t even sound like a real word.  
She would release it, but it would be disastrous. In the time immediately after, everyone would be susceptible to new programming. And it would be easy to manage people when they were in a state like that.  
And the mass trauma. It would be catastrophic.  
But it would also be a way out.  
If she could do it slowly, or with people closer to humanity than others, maybe, just maybe, it might work.  
But then she might have to judge who to try it on.   
If she failed and was reported, they might change it.  
She sat, carrying yet another burden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> As I say, comments are open and I want you to feel free to express your opinion about this work.
> 
> I’m sorry if I’ve offended anyone.
> 
> Thank you guys.


	27. Two options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> This miniseries was a massive train wreck.  
> And for that, I’m sorry.  
> I don’t really like this work, but I am going to get us out after this.  
> Back to hopelessness.
> 
> (Also, Happy Mardi Gras, if you live near me! Pride!)
> 
> TWs for this chapter:  
> Blood.  
> Injuries.  
> Mentions of dead bodies.
> 
> Take care of yourself guys.

Kevin walked around. It was disconcerting, all the lights and people.  
His senses were filled with all the other entities in the centre, he had only ever felt this many once before, on his first day at the Desert Bluffs Community Radio, long before all of this.  
He couldn’t see, but he could see everything. Everything in its truth around him.  
He was stumbling more than walking to be honest. He had been trapped for a long time.  
And he headed to the kitchen.  
All around him, people were crying on the floor, or flicking out of existence.  
He found the bread. It was slightly stale, but that was fine.  
He put it in the toaster, waiting as it spat the traditional hot acid and then he ate it. It was satisfying, the crunch of bread in his mouth.  
It was nice.  
He finished the bread and then he brushed the crumbs off his shirt.  
Then he had a thought.  
Was the chaos confined to the centre, or was it in the town as well?  
He checked his form to make sure it looked vaguely human.  
Then he went, for the first time in a long time, to see what had come of his town.

It was yellow.  
Bloody.  
And pure chaos.  
Corpses were scattered on the roads.  
People trying to remain calm, to do something.  
No one could manage either.  
A few people ran from Kevin.  
Others recognised him, even with the burnt out eyes and prisoner jumpsuit.  
And a rare few people from the latter group joined him in walking.  
And he started to help people up.  
And people began to do the same.  
Whatever Lauren had done to them, it hadn’t been gentle.  
But it had gotten them here.  
He closed his eyes while he walked, not needing them open.  
He could see just fine without scaring a bunch of people.  
He limped a bit, with his legs never going to be as good again.  
They never were exactly good, but now they were bad.  
And people were picking children up, their eyes full with things they had seen.  
Their minds full with going out with a goddamn bang if they had to go out.

The first person Daniel found was slightly insane. They had been here for slightly longer than what they could take.  
But what was wrong with that? It was making more sense than what he had learnt earlier.  
The second person was just a child, their form small and wispy.  
Daniel wondered why there were children here. What they had done.  
He didn’t want to ask anything.  
Not yet at least.  
And it was interesting, because he could see the world below him, but he could no longer interact with it.  
Actually, it wasn’t interesting, it was torturous.  
But he focused on finding people. He focused on the spirits or whatever they were, and trying to just make them stay together.  
It would be hard.  
But he had to do something.

There were a lot of people.  
Each living out their own story.  
And now they were walking, their feet eroding the layers of blood of the pavement.  
There was rain falling, a rare thing to see.  
It wasn’t raining. It was bucketing.  
And although some people were worried and uncomfortable about the rain, others were basking in it, and enjoying the blood washing off of them.  
They kept walking.  
The streets were becoming more clean.  
And people were picking over their dead and moving them off the streets.  
No one could distinguish tears and rain on other people’s faces, but Kevin knew that a lot of people were crying.  
There was a solemn feeling as they walked. The underlying understanding that this couldn’t last, this peace would not last, that either StrexCorp would take charge, or whatever section of the World Government managed this patch of desert.  
But for now, this was true beauty.  
There was also a sense of determination. That they would go down fighting.  
Or, they would only give up if a future was guaranteed.  
That was the exception.

Lili ran the numbers.  
Jade checked the numbers.  
Heather checked their multiverse system.  
Nat checked the future.  
It wasn’t fun.  
But they came to a conclusion.

The Smiling God had seen the world.  
They had seen the ways of it, the patterns and trends.  
They finally decided to take up a patch of land, with (then friend) Huntokar.  
Their patch had been a promise.  
A promise of friendship to Huntokar.  
A promise of competence to their fellow entities.  
And most of all, it had been a promise of happiness to the humans.  
They couldn’t believe that they had managed to break every single one.  
But they had.  
And when Ikarae, the entity who gifted random people from other entities and then claimed them, like they had to Natalia, who truly belonged to their world, came to tell them what the people who were part of their watch had found, they understood that this was the only way.  
But to tell them would be to break them, the knowledge.  
That their people would have to give up the hope they had found for a future that they could not see.  
But the Smiling God understood, like them, that this couldn’t last.  
That this was only temporary.

When Tallara got the news, she sent it to Lauren. Who sent it to Kevin.

Kevin stood, shaken a bit from the intrusive, telepathic flame that had rammed into one of the pale scars that contrasted with his dark skin.  
The news that they had to give up, or give up the future.  
There weren’t more details.  
Just this.  
He stood. And people stopped. He turned, trying to ignore people wincing at what had happened to him.  
The rain slowly stopped.  
“People of Desert Bluffs, I know that this has been hard-”  
“You haven’t made it easier.” A child, one he recognised from Jeanie’s class, called out, their face carved and their body covered in bruises and stitches.  
The sight made his stomach churn. But then that same spark of defiance, lit from that discomfort.  
“You know what? I haven’t. As Lauren said, I didn’t save our world. I’ve helped StrexCorp, or, not me exactly, but my body has. I shouldn’t be giving you this message. It should be some morally correct, perfect hero.”  
The silence was palpable.  
“But I don’t see anything around here, so here’s the message. If we give up now, a brighter future will emerge. If we continue, we’ll go on for a little while and then we will die.”  
There was loud chatting that burst out.  
After a little while of that, Grandma Josephine came to the front and called, “All for continuing, raise your hand.” The hands were counted by the Demons who lived with her. Then she called for, “All for the future raise your hands now.”  
After a while of counting, Grandma Josephine pulled Kevin aside and told him that Future had won by one vote.  
Then they heard cheerful music blaring, the equivalent of sirens for StrexCorp.  
They were coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.
> 
> Comments are open.
> 
> Thank you guys for listening, I know it hasn’t been very good.

**Author's Note:**

> I think that that was horrible.  
> I’m a mediocre writer at best.  
> Anyway...  
> I’m a Lauren redemption arc person who is many years late to the party.  
> Eh.  
> Should I do other stuff with this?  
> I don’t know. Thank you.
> 
> Note: The rest of this (chap2 and beyond is different.) It’s an extended story of Lauren. Sorta. I still don’t like it, but that’s okay.  
> That’s where most of the warnings come in.


End file.
